Of Dreams
by utopia1101
Summary: Isabella Swan dreams of her future.  Edward Cullen runs from his past.  AU/Canon pairings.  Vampward and Human Bella with special powers.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

When I was a little girl, I had a dream that my parents were getting a divorce. I was five at the time, I think. Maybe four. I saw my mother and father sitting at our kitchen table and calmly discussing the upheaval of my life. I watched as my mom placed a consoling hand on my father's shoulder before going into their bedroom and packing a suitcase. I listened as my dad wept quietly downstairs. When I woke up, my things were in the trunk of my mother's station wagon, and my father was sitting in the rocking chair in the corner. They apologized to me. They explained that their marriage was over. And my mother took me away.

It didn't occur to me to be confused, at first. After all, I had seen what had happened. I assumed I had been awake the whole time, had probably crept downstairs for a glass of water and accidentally born witness to the whole affair. It wasn't until later, when we stopped driving and moved into a small apartment in Dallas, that I realized I had been sleeping. That I hadn't witnessed a complete chain of events. That what I had seen jumped and skipped like a worn record.

I hated Dallas. It was hot and big and scary and so very different from Forks, where I had grown up. Where I had been just days before, safe in my familiar room with my familiar things and my familiar father. Our apartment had one bedroom, which my mother valiantly gave to me for the first month or so. She changed her mind when she started dating Tom.

School was difficult. The kids dressed differently than I did, spoke with alien accents, used strange words. It was only kindergarten, but I hated it. And then it was first grade. And then second. And then I had a dream about Tom. He was pulling into the driveway of a big white house. A woman in an apron came out and gave him a kiss. A little boy peeked out from behind her legs and gave him a hug. And my mother was parked across the street, watching. When I woke up, we left Dallas. Apparently my mom didn't like Tom anymore.

New Orleans was fun. We found a long, skinny house on a sleepy street with lots of trees. I had my own bedroom in New Orleans, and our living room had a fireplace, though my mother hadn't the slightest idea of how to make a fire. School was easier. I made a couple of friends, and they taught me how to ride a bike. Mom found a job as a secretary in some law firm, and brought home Jason the paralegal. They were happy for a while. She was happy so I was happy. It was nice. It started to feel like home. But then I had a dream about Jason out with another girl. They were holding hands and kissing in a restaurant on Canal Street. And my mother walked by and saw them. She screamed at him, threw water in his face. When I woke up the next morning, our bags were packed and back in the station wagon. My friends waved as we drove away. I never got to say goodbye.

After New Orleans came Memphis. Then Atlanta. We never stayed anyplace more than a few years. There was always a man somewhere. Always some untenable dream of a perfect life. Always distant smiles and preoccupied hugs. And always the dreams. Like alarms before the fire. Marking our moves from one state to the next.

When I was in the eighth grade, we moved to Tempe, Arizona. It was small and hot and comfortable in a lazy sort of way. My mother found a job as an assistant manager at a department store in Phoenix. The pay was decent, and the discount generous, and for the first time since we moved away from Forks, I got new clothes to wear to school. When I started the ninth grade, we moved into Phoenix proper so I could go to a good high school. My mother never used to worry about these things, but suddenly she was obsessed with me getting a good education. She found us a house to rent on the outskirts of a wealthy neighborhood, and my first day of high school was spent surrounded by designer jeans and expensive cars.

I got sneered at a lot by the other kids. The girls would giggle behind their hands and point at me, singling out some part of my outfit or demeanor as offensive to their superior tastes. My jeans were too baggy. My sneakers to childish. My backpack too pedestrian. Still, I managed to scrape a couple of friends, and we would sit together at lunch, enduring the snickering of our peers until the period was over and we could leave the scrutiny of the cafeteria. I started having the dreams more regularly that year. And now they weren't only about what was happening, but they seemed to be telling me things that were going to happen. One night, as I slept, I watched a senior girl trip me in the hallway between classes. The next day, sprawled on my stomach and looking up at the girl with her foot still stuck out, I realized what was happening. And I started to pay attention.

I started journaling everything. I kept a composition book under my pillow, and bought a pen with a light attached. I tracked my accuracy. And I was pretty damn accurate.

I learned that I couldn't prevent most of the things from happening. When I dreamed about the cheerleaders "accidentally" spilling water on my shirt in the cafeteria, I avoided the lunchroom the next day, only to have a bottle of water dumped onto my chest by a girl in my English class. On the way to the gym locker room to find a dry shirt, I ran into a nice sophomore boy who asked me if I was alright. His name was Mark. He had shaggy black hair and a tiny dimple in his left cheek. He walked me to the locker room, waited for me to change, and walked me back to class. He became my first boyfriend.

After Mark, things got better. I started paying closer attention to how I looked, and no longer allowed my mother to simply bring me clothes when she felt like it. I started to take ownership of my life. I shopped for myself and started cooking, rather than eat fast food every night. Mark was on the track team, and we would go jogging together. And then running. And then it was the best part of my day, running with Mark on the track behind the school. The dreams kept coming, but sometimes they were of nice things. I saw my first kiss with Mark. I saw my first school dance. I saw my mom getting a promotion. And then I saw my mom with Phil.

My mother met Phil at the returns counter in her store. He was tan and charming and ten years her junior. They went to dinner together and then to breakfast the next day. And then he was all she would talk about. Phil was a minor league baseball player. Phil drove a sexy red convertible. Phil liked action movies and tequila shots. Phil didn't know she had a daughter. And when Phil found out, it took her a month to get him to come back.

I made Phil uncomfortable. Which was fine, really, because he made me uncomfortable, too. He avoided me at every opportunity, which meant my mother generally avoided me as well. She stopped coming home most nights, opting to stay at Phil's place. I maintained our house by myself, bought the groceries, payed the bills with the checkbook she left for me. At first, my mom would leave me some cash for the week. Eventually, she started to forget. In the tenth grade, I got a job at a local pizza place. I lied about my age and they hired me. I earned money to close the gap between what my mother remembered to leave me and what I actually needed. I still saw her, of course. She wasn't abandoning me. Every Thursday afternoon, I'd stop by her store. She'd let me pick something out, a pair of shoes, a shirt, a bracelet, and then she'd take me out to dinner. Phil had practice on Thursday nights, so I guess she needed to kill time.

At school, people stopped bullying me. Well, they didn't really stop... they just sort of got quiet. I'd walk down the hall, eminently more presentable but still ultimately poorer and less cool than any of my peers, and watch their eyes light up as they thought of snarky things to say. But the comments ultimately died on their lips. Mark pointed it out to me one day. He had begged me to start defending myself all summer, assured me that I was too smart and too pretty and too strong to allow anyone to walk over me the way the upperclassmen did. Just when I decided to do it, to fight back, to glare at them as they glared at me, they stopped. Mark said it was because I found confidence. I think it's because they got bored and moved on.

Mark was a good boyfriend. He was affectionate and loyal and caring. We played house a lot, with my mother gone all the time. I'd cook us dinner and we'd watch tv or do homework together until it was time for him to go home. Sometimes he'd tell his mom he was sleeping at a friend's house but stay at my place instead. We'd make out in my bed and fall asleep in each other's arms. It felt nice and safe and comfortable. I felt cared for for the first time in my life.

One night, at the end of my sophomore year, I dreamed that Phil proposed to my mom. That next week, at our regular Thursday dinner, my mother showed me her new diamond ring, exclaiming about how beautiful it was, how it was so much nicer than the one my father had gotten her so many years before. It was the first I'd heard about my father since we left him. He didn't exist in her world, so he didn't exist in mine. I felt guilty for forgetting about him, trying to remember what life was like when I was little as my mom prattled on about white dresses and reception venues. I made a silent vow to call him, but realized I didn't know what his number was. I didn't know if he was still in Forks. I didn't know anything about him.

That night, I cried myself to sleep and dreamed of my past. I dreamed of learning how to walk while clutching my father's fingers. I dreamed of sneaking out of bed on Christmas Eve to see Santa arranging presents under the tree. Santa looked up and winked at me, his face bearing strikingly suspicious resemblance to my dad's. I dreamed of flannel clad arms holding me close during storms. I dreamed of trips around town in the police cruiser, playing with the lights and the sirens to the amusement of the man sitting next to me. I dreamed of my father. And when I woke up, I remembered.

My mother got married on my first day of school. I could not attend, but saw pictures afterwards. Her friends from the store were there. Phil's teammates were in attendance. They went on a two week honeymoon to Cancun. My mom texted me pictures of swaying palm trees and sandy beaches. She said she was having the time of her life. She had never been so happy. I was happy because she was. And I had Mark, anyway. I didn't need my mother if I had Mark.

I did research online to try to find my dad. I called the Forks police station and found out he was now the town's Chief. The station wouldn't give me his home number without me telling them who I was. They offered for me to leave a message. They connected me to his voicemail. I listened to his recorded voice and started crying. Mark rocked me to sleep.

Phil moved into our house. My mom came back from their honeymoon pregnant. She was ecstatic, as was Phil. I dreamed of a little boy with Phil's sandy hair and my mother's nose. I was going to have a brother. It was exciting. But then the more pregnant my mom got, the less Phil spoke to me. He would pat her stomach affectionately, dote on her constantly, but ignore my existence. Three months into the pregnancy, I dreamed about Phil telling my mom he didn't want to raise his son with another man's child. She nodded and told him she understood, that it was about him and the baby and nothing else. She cried and told him she loved him. When I woke up, it was the first dream in years that I didn't write down.

My mom stopped talking to me.

Like Phil, she would look at me, recognition sparking behind her eyes. She would open her mouth to say something. The words would never come out.

I talked to Mark about it. I told him I felt like they didn't want me around anymore. I told him as much as I could without revealing my dreams. He told me I was being silly. That they would be stupid not to love me. That _he_ loves me. I gave him my virginity that night in my bedroom. Thunder and lightning were crashing outside, rain was battering the windows. My mom and Phil were at an away game in California. And Mark was with me, in my bed. He held me afterwards, caressing my back and whispering his love. It felt nice and safe. Comfortable. Later, I dreamed of me saying goodbye to him. Of me packing my things and boarding an airplane. I saw mom and Phil drop me at the airport. Mom kissed my cheek and patted my shoulder and told me to be good. Mark cried and told me I was his first love, his first everything. That we should run away together. I left most of my things behind in Phoenix. The dream was jarring and disjointed and different from any others that I'd had. I woke up the next morning, kissed Mark on the cheek, and called Forks.

"Forks Police Department, this is Marcie, are you calling about an emergency?"

I sat there dumbly, the phone clenched in my hands. I didn't know what to say. I didn't know how to say it.

"Hello?"

"Yes, hi. Sorry. Is, um... is Charlie Swan available, please?"

"Who's calling?"

"It's... it's his daughter. His daughter Isabella."

My mother didn't react when I told her I was leaving. She kept folding towels, matching up corners and smoothing edges with her fingertips. I got tired of waiting for a response and left the room. I booked a flight to Seattle online and used the credit card number my father gave me. My father. It seemed weird to think of him like that, to think of even having a father. But I did. And he wanted me. So I was leaving.

I packed up my room. I brought some clothes and some pictures of the friends I'd made over the years. I had snapshots of every front door I'd ever lived behind. They were a map of my life and I brought them. I didn't have much else. The furniture couldn't come, and didn't really belong to me to begin with. I packed up my bookshelf and brought the box to Post Office, mailing it ahead of me to the address my father had given me. The address of my new home. In Forks. With him.

Mark took me to dinner in a nice restaurant downtown. He got us a hotel room and we spent the night holding each other and making love and saying goodbye. He cried twice, but he told me he loved me and he just wanted me to be happy. He wanted us to stay together, to have a long-distance relationship. That night I dreamed of a bronze haired boy with pale skin and amber eyes. He sat next to me in a field of flowers, telling me about his family. The next morning, I kissed Mark goodbye and told him we would always be friends. He hugged me tighter than he ever had before and let me go with red rimmed eyes.

Two days later, I waved goodbye to my old life and boarded the plane to Seattle. I told my mother I loved her as I left, and she gazed back at me quietly. I thought I saw a flicker of remorse in her eyes. I couldn't be sure. I was probably wrong.

The flight was long and tedious, with nothing to entertain me but the MP3 player Mark had bought me for my seventeenth birthday. I flipped through the in-flight magazine and regretted sending all of my books ahead of me. I avoided taking a nap because my dreams of late had been scaring me. Pale figures drinking from the necks of animals. Black eyes glaring at me across crowded rooms. Boys changing into wolves. I had dutifully written it all in my dream journal, but I knew it couldn't be real. It had to be the stress of the move. The upheaval of my life.

The plane landed in Seattle and a swarm of butterflies took over my stomach. My father was going to pick me up from the airport. He was going to meet me in the baggage claim. I was going to see him and touch him for the first time in twelve years. It was terrifying and exciting all at once.

My feet carried me across the terminal without my knowledge, and I worried about recognizing him. I had had dreams of him, of course, but what if they were inaccurate? My subconscious had been showing me some pretty strange things lately. What if he had changed...

But then, he was there. In grey plaid and faded denim, my father stood before me. The mustache of my childhood was still there, and it twitched when he recognized me. I took that to mean he was smiling.

"Isabella?"

"Hello, Charlie."

Charlie? Surely I hadn't just called him Charlie? But I had and his face fell a bit. And I felt bad for making him feel bad. I tried to correct myself... tried to call him "dad." The words wouldn't come out, though. So I moved past it.

"It's good to see you, kid."

"You, too."

"Come on, then. Let's get you home."

And, just like that, for the first time in twelve years, I was going home.

The house I was born in was small and white. It was a modest two up, two down, with a porch in the front and a yard in the back that disappears into the tree line of one of Washington's ubiquitous woods. It had green shutters and a finished attic with a round window like a port hole overlooking the side of the property. It was small and nothing special. But I remembered it.

Charlie pulled into the driveway and it was exactly the same.

We didn't talk much on the long drive from Seattle to Forks. He told me a bit about his job. He told me he liked to fish on the weekends with some friends from the Reservation just outside of town. He told me how grown-up I looked, how beautiful I'd become. He told me I reminded him of my mother. The last comment bothered me but I didn't say anything.

He asked me a little about my life, about school. I got uncomfortable and he quit asking questions. I thanked him for allowing me to stay and he told me he'd missed me every day since I'd been gone. We didn't talk for the rest of the trip.

The attic runs the whole length of the house. The ceiling comes to a point in the middle, with sloping beams on either side. Charlie installed hardwood floors and heating ducts. He painted the walls a calming sage green and left the beams exposed. He picked up a black, wrought iron bed frame from a garage sale and bought a soft, queen-sized mattress that takes up almost an entire wall of the narrow room for me to sleep on. There's a dark wood wardrobe and a matching dresser that apparently belonged to my grandmother. I hadn't thought about grandparents in years, so the idea of having anything belonging to them surprised me. He promised to buy me a desk when we could find a suitable one. He told me I could decorate the room however I wanted. It was mine to do with as I pleased. He offered to take me shopping so I could make the room more homey. It was already homier than anything I'd ever had before. I thanked him and shooed him out, telling him I needed to unpack. I didn't want him to see me crying and get the wrong idea. I didn't want him to think I was unhappy. In truth, I couldn't remember being happier.

I wandered around my new room, running my fingers over the cold metal of the bed frame, the warm wood of the dresser. The round window I remembered was gone, replaced by a large square with smaller panes of glass. I opened it and stuck my head outside, breathing in the damp air. The window looked almost directly into a tree, close enough that I could reach out and touch the leaves with my fingertips, and I happily decided that I would pretend my room was a treehouse. And that this was my chance to make an impression on the world. That this was my new start. I had a father and a home and a beautiful tree outside... and it was time for me to shine.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Please be sure you've read the correct first chapter. I originally posted two chapters, but went back and consolidated... and then proceeded to add an entire new section. **

**Chapter Two**

Last night I dreamed of a mahogany desk. It sat in front of my window, overlooking my tree, glowing in the thin sunlight. I saw myself running my fingers over its top, curling my hands around its scrolled legs and clawed feet. It was antique and beautiful and felt like it had been waiting for me for years. I woke up confused, but wrote it down in my journal. Not everything makes sense. Sometimes things just happen.

My first morning with Charlie was surprisingly comfortable. I had been fending for myself with my mother for years, waking myself up in the mornings, making my own breakfast, doing all the housework. I made bacon and eggs for two, making a mental note to head to the grocery store later that day, and was thrilled that Charlie ate every last bite. I've never minded cooking, but cooking for one is lonely. It will be nice to provide for more than myself on a regular basis.

Charlie presented me with a bank card to take care of household expenses. A speech was made about not spending the money frivolously, but his job keeps him busy most of the time, and he told me he realized that there may be things that we needed that he wouldn't always be available to ask permission for. It was a wonderful gesture, and I wondered why my mother had never thought to do that before. I offered to take over the bill paying, but Charlie assured me he was a grown man and would take care of us. I offered to get a job to pay for my upkeep, and he seemed offended, telling me my job was to get good grades and keep out of trouble. I thanked him and excused myself to my room, where I cried for twenty minutes because I had a father who wanted to take care of me.

There is, apparently, only one grocery store in Forks. It is cramped and dingy and more than a little depressing. Grocery shopping has never been my favorite activity, but the store was scary enough for me to vow to make a list next time, just to try to speed things up. I kept my head down as I walked through the aisles, trying to study people without them studying me. I saw a few familiar faces from my dreams, and decided that they had to be high school students. The checkout clerk read the name on my new debit card and welcomed me to Forks, telling me Charlie had spoken of nothing but me for years. This was confusing, since we had only begun talking again two weeks ago, but I thanked her for her warmth and hospitality and was on my way. It was raining by the time I left the store, and I reminded myself to ask Charlie where I could get a good jacket. Phoenix had never required one.

I returned home from the market to find a circus on my lawn. A large Jeep was pulling away as a man in a wheelchair glared daggers at its departure. There was a beat up VW Bug in the driveway next to Charlie's cruiser, and a teenage boy was leaning against a black truck parked against the curb. Charlie was sitting on the front porch, speaking rapidly to a large man with long, grey hair. I had no idea who these people were, what was going on, or where in the hell I was supposed to park.

"Charlie?" I called, pulling into the driveway and blocking in the cruiser. "Is everything alright?"

"Everything's fine, Bella-bear. These are just a couple of friends from the Reservation."

My chest tightened painfully for a moment, not having heard that nickname in over a decade. It was nice, though. The sentiment. I felt the tears trying to fight their way out, and it was all I could do to beat them back.

"Isabella, I'm Billy Black." The man in the wheelchair rolled over to me, extending his hand. His skin was dark and weather-worn, like tanned leather, and his silver hair hung in a braid down his back. Still, his plaid shirt and the Blackberry peeking out from the pocket belied his modernity, and though his handshake was firm, his smile was warm.

"It's nice to meet you, Mr. Black," I replied, returning his smile.

"Billy, please, Isabella. We're old friends, you and I. I've known you since you were born."

"Really?" I asked, sort of glad to learn that I had a history with this man. With anyone, really.

"Absolutely. You and Jacob over there used to play in the mud together." He gestured at the boy leaning against the truck, cocking his head to invite him over.

"That was a long time ago, dad," the boy named Jacob mumbled, obviously embarrassed by his father's trip down memory lane. "Anyway," he added, coming to stand in front of me, "it's nice to see you again, Isabella."

"You too," I returned with a distracted nod. Jacob looked exactly like Mark. He was built wider, stronger, but his big almond eyes, his black hair, the small dimple that appeared in his cheek when he smiled at me. Jacob was obviously younger, probably fifteen to my seventeen, and more muscular, but everything about Jacob screamed Mark to me. I was at once repulsed and attracted by the familiarity of it.

"Where'd you run off to before, Bells?" Charlie called from the porch, bringing me out of my musings.

"Oh! I was buying groceries. Everything's probably melting right now."

I bolted to the passenger seat of the truck Charlie had leant me. Everyone seemed to drive trucks here. They were absolutely everywhere. I wondered if the residents of Forks had to sign a contract with the city promising to drive the macho vehicles. I reached into the cab, grabbing for the bags, only to be thwarted by Jacob, Charlie, and the man who had yet to introduce himself. They shrugged off my protests that I could carry them in myself and proceeded to march the purchases into the house. Again, I had to beat back my emotions.

I cooked lunch for four men. Harry Clearwater, the man I had seen on the porch with Charlie, had apparently come baring fresh caught fish, and I fried them up for the lot of us, feeling content in the kitchen as Charlie joked and laughed with his friends. They thanked me heartily for the meal and told more stories about my childhood visits to the Reservation, visits that I couldn't for the life of me remember. Maybe if I concentrated hard enough I would dream of them tonight. I'd have to test that theory.

I cleaned up the mess from lunch with Jacob as everyone else watched a baseball game in the living room. He was a nice boy, genuine and with a lovely smile, but I didn't like being reminded of my old life so quickly after moving into my new one, and his uncanny ability to remind me of Mark was not helping. Still, he dried the dishes as I washed them, telling me stories about his friends from school, about cliff diving crazies and bonfires at the beach. It sounded like he had a nice life. Happy. I couldn't relate to much that he told me, but the conversation was nice, anyway.

When the game ended the house emptied. Charlie and I walked everyone outside, joking and laughing. I was thanked again for the lunch and wished luck at the new school. Jacob apparently went to a school on the Reservation. I couldn't decide if that was a good thing or not. Harry Clearwater jumped into the truck I had driven to the grocery store, and I shot Charlie a questioning look.

"Harry lent it to me to get you from the airport. I didn't think you'd want to be picked up in the cruiser."

I smiled at my father and he shrugged and smiled back. That had been thoughtful of him. But then I realized that left us with only Charlie's cruiser, and I wondered how I would be getting to school. Charlie's smile widened and he eyed me knowingly before handing me a set of worn keys from his pocket.

"I meant to give you these this morning, kid, but you distracted me with that delicious breakfast. This key," he held up a small bronze one from the ring, "opens the front door. This one," he held up a tiny silver one, "opens a storage space I got us down the road. All the stuff I moved out of the attic is there, and you're welcome to keep anything in there you like. Last, though, and I hope not least, is this key."

The key was long and silver, with a rubber cap on the end that connected to the keyring. It looked like a car key. Wait... it looked like a car key?

"Welcome home, Isabella," Charlie smiled, gesturing to the VW Beetle I had noticed before in the driveway. "I'm so happy to have you here."

"Take care of her, Isabella," Jacob called to me from the truck parked out front. "It took me two years to restore her."

And with smiles, waves, and much honking of horns, the two trucks pulled away, leaving me on the front lawn of my little white house, still gaping at Charlie as though he'd sprouted a second head.

How had I not dreamed about this? How had I not seen it coming?

It was nice, really... to remember what surprise feels like. To know that I _could_ be surprised anymore.

"Bella-bear?" Charlie asked, shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot. "Is it alright? You can tell me if you don't like it. I can drive it back up to LaPush and we can find you something else. Really, Isabella, it's no big deal. It will be gone by tomorrow. We'll get you something you li-"

I rushed towards my father, tears streaming down my face, wrapping my arms around his chest and holding him as tight as I could. Nobody had ever done anything like this for me before. I had gotten my drivers license on my own. My mother never even noticed. And to come to this man's home, this man who hadn't seen me or spoken to me for twelve years, just to have him open his arms and welcome me... to have him buy me something that ensured my independence... it was amazing. It humbled me. And I didn't know what to say or do. So I hugged him like I was drowning.

Charlie had finally gotten me to let go with a few awkward pats on the back. He was a warm man, and clearly very generous, but I doubted he was well-practiced at expressing his feelings or showing any kind of affection. To be honest, I wasn't much better. But the emotions of the past few weeks had caught up with me, and it seemed all I could do was cry, hug, and cook.

The car wasn't new by any stretch of the imagination, but I loved it all the same. It was rust-colored and ridiculous looking and so charming that I couldn't stop smiling. The seats had been covered in some sort of tan, tweed fabric. The vinyl of the dash wash cracking in places. It smelled like tobacco and Febreze. And it was absolutely perfect. I drove it around the block a few times to assure Charlie that it was running fine before heading upstairs to get back to unpacking.

"Isabella," Charlie called when I reached the second floor landing, "I forgot to tell you. We found you a desk. They dropped it off right before you got home."

"We? Who's we?" I called back.

"Esme Cullen. She does decorating as a hobby, or something, and she offered to help me get your room together when I found out you were coming. Anyway, it had taken her a while to find something suitable, but she found something this morning at an estate sale and had her boys bring it by while you were at the store."

Esme Cullen. Interesting name.

"Thanks," I yelled on my way up the attic stairs. "I'll let you know."

And, of course, the first thing I saw when I walked into my room was a beautiful mahogany desk. It had been set in front of my window, facing my tree, glowing dimly in the rare late afternoon sun. Elated, I approached it slowly as though it would disappear at any moment. I ran my fingertips across the surface, smiling at the warmth of the wood, the feeling of inherent rightness that this simple piece of furniture brought me. I opened each of the three drawers that ran down the front, planning out what I would keep in each, delighting in the antique key sticking out from the bottom one. I retrieved some of my full dream diaries and shut them into the last drawer, delighting in the click the key made when I turned it in the lock. This was wonderful. My most carefully guarded secret would be kept private, hidden away from prying eyes. I'd never really had that before. I'd never really had much of anything before.

It was with a room full of empty boxes and suitcases and a dreamy smile on my face that I eventually made my way downstairs to prepare dinner. Charlie walked me through what I would need to do at school tomorrow morning, and offered his opinions on some of the teenagers he'd run into around town. It seemed that the more time we spent together, the more comfortable we were communicating.

I went to bed that night feeling as though something was about to happen. Nothing terrible, there was nothing ominous about the rushing in my chest. Just anticipation. Blank anticipation.

I dreamed that night of a locket hidden in a secret compartment of my desk. When I awoke, it was still dark. There was rain splattering against my window and wind whipping through my tree. I flipped on the lamp on my nightstand and crossed to my desk, not even bothering to journal my latest dream. With some effort, I managed to slid the desk away from the wall, running my hand along the back of it, pushing and pulling when I found a loose board.

The drawer was, as I had dreamed it, hidden behind the rear lip of the desk. It was wide and shallow and had probably once held documents or pictures of some sort. Something inside the drawer rattled metallically as I eased it out and there, just as I had seen it only minutes before, was the locket. It was large, about the size of my thumb, and looked to be silver or pewter, with some sort of engraving on the front. I moved the desk back into its place and climbed on top of it, settling cross-legged to examine my find by the meager light of my window.

There was a lion. Above was an open palm. Below him, a scroll with three fleur de lis. It was heavy and clearly old an situated on a rope-like silver chain, which I brought over my head. The locket sat securely between my breasts, and I lifted it to examine once more, this time trying to find a way to open it. There was clearly a hinge on one side, but I couldn't find a catch anywhere to get it open. After a few minutes, I gave up and simply held it in my hand, enjoying the weight of it. Ordinarily, if I found something so clearly valuable, I would try to return it to its rightful owner. But this... this felt like it was supposed to belong to me.

I sat there on top of my beautiful new desk, in my beautiful new room, holding my beautiful new locket, and watched the storm ravage the forest. Lighting ripped through the sky and wind tore the branches off of trees, but I felt safer than I ever had. I felt protected. I stole a pillow and blanket from my bed and curled up on the desk, my forehead pressed to the cool glass. I felt like I was approaching something important. Like any minute now, I would come face to face with my destiny.

Smiling for the millionth time that day, I closed my eyes and let the thunder and wind and rain sing me a lullaby. And I went back to sleep.

**A/N: I would like to reiterate that this is still a rough story idea. I am not sure if I'm going to stick with it or not. Let me know if it resonates with you.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

I am well practiced at first days of school. I am used to the stares and the whispers. But I haven't had to go through that in three years. Three long, comfortable years with my boyfriend holding my hand and my acquaintances watching my back. From a practice standpoint, this should not have been difficult, this pulling into a new parking lot and walking into an office. Still... it was rough.

I met a woman named Mrs. Cope. She sat behind a wide, formica desk and pushed a stack of papers into my hands. I had a schedule and a map of the school. I had a lunch menu and a health form for my gym class. I had the supply lists that are generally handed out before the school year. It occurred to me that these things would have been infinitely more useful yesterday, when I would have had time to study them and purchase my necessities, but there was nothing to do for it now, so I smiled and thanked her and waved as I exited the front office.

Forks High School, Home of the Spartans. This may have been the most unremarkable campus I'd ever walked across. There was grass everywhere, and there were long, wide concrete walkways with corrugated metal roofs. They crisscrossed the expanses of green, connecting the buildings which seemed to be constructed unreasonably apart from each other.

I briefly consulted the schedule in my hand, then the map. I had a locker in the Arts Building, though I had no arts classes. I decided to ignore it for now, and I headed off to find the History Building and my first Civics class in a new school.

I went to four classes and walked away with six new friends. The kids here are different than they'd been anywhere else. They all knew each other from birth. They'd shared birthday parties and swapped kisses and traded gossip since their inceptions. My mother hadn't gotten near a small town since she ran from Forks, and I had never experienced anything quite like these people around me. They were all nice. They all wanted to get to know me, to hear about Arizona, to walk me to my next class. It was stifling and more than a little scary. And none of them had been prominent features of my dreams.

The Forks High cafeteria was a surprisingly comfortable room. The floors were the standard white linoleum, the walls the standard institutional bone, but there were large picture windows adorning the walls, and even if they only showed off the rain choking the grass and the clouds choking the sky, they provided a nice distraction. My new friends insisted that I sit with them, and I was hardly in a position to object. The girls glared at the boys as they paid too much attention to me. The boys ignored the other girls entirely. Mark had been he only one to show an interest in me before. I didn't know what to do with their regard.

A girl named Jessica demanded my attention, talking about the English class we'd shared and the teacher's notoriously unfair nature. The girl seated next to her, Lauren, agreed wholeheartedly, and then they were off on their own conversation, gossiping about people I'd never heard of and probably wouldn't care about. Angela was the girl on my other side, and she suggested I join the Yearbook staff with her, telling me it would be a great way for me to meet new people. Eric, a boy I'd met in my first class, agreed wholeheartedly. Then Mike and Tyler, who I'd met only minutes ago, hinted that perhaps they'd like to join the Yearbook staff as well. That was enough to turn me off of the idea, but I thanked Angela for her suggestion and told her I'd think about it. Lunch had never been this stressful before.

As the group nattered away around me, I took an opportunity to glance around the lunch room. Nobody present had played an active role in any of my dreams, and I still felt that rushing in my chest that had plagued me the night before. Something was coming. Something was going to happen. And I excused myself, suddenly desiring to be anyplace but there.

I found myself in the school parking lot a few minutes later, rolling down the windows of my Bug and spreading myself across the front seat. I dug my MP3 player from my backpack and toyed with an apple I had brought from the cafeteria. I had felt so whole yesterday. I didn't understand why I would suddenly feel so bereft today.

I sat there until the end of the period, idly listening to music and watching the rain fall around me. When it was time to return, I rolled my windows back up with a sigh and hitched my backpack over my shoulder once again. The Science Building was right in front of the parking lot, so I didn't have a long walk ahead of me. When I reached to appropriate room, I waved at those who waved at me, Mike and Jessica were both in this class, it would seem, and sought out the teacher to let him know I was there. I was directed to a stool at a table in the back of the room, and I made my way cautiously down the aisle between lab tables, mindful of the squeaking noise the wet rubber of my shoes made against the linoleum, and found my spot, dropping my bag onto the table with a thud and turning towards my table-mate and lab partner for the rest of the year, preparing to introduce myself. And that's when I saw him.

I dreamed of a bronze-haired boy with pale skin and amber eyes. He sat next to me in a field of flowers and told me about his family. And here he was. Staring at me.

"I'm Isabella Swan," I whispered, extending my hand. This was the boy. The boy I had let Mark go for. The boy I had let myself move on for.

"Edward," he replied, keeping my eyes but ignoring my hand which, after a moment, pulled my locket from beneath my shirt and clutched it like an anchor in a choppy sea. It was warm from my body heat and felt solid beneath my fingers. Edward marked the movement, moving his focus from my stare to my hands. "What do you have there?"

I thought for a moment. The locket wasn't really mine. It belonged to my desk. At least, that's how I thought of it. It occurred to me that I sounded crazy, referring to my desk as though it was a sentient being, capable of property ownership. Still, though I wore it around my neck and cherished it as though it were my own, I knew the locket was in my possession through the generosity of the universe. It wasn't mine to claim. I thought of a conversation that Jacob and I had had over washing dishes. I'd noticed a leather cord around his wrist, a wooden carving of a wolf attached...

"It's my totem." I replied, smiling faintly now that I knew what to call it.

"Totem?" he echoed softly, his long, pale fingers twitching on the black surface of the table.

I nodded, offering no further explanation, and he inclined his head, telling me that he understood. I was still standing in the aisle, staring at Edward, when Mr. Banner called the class to attention. Still holding the totem, still watching those amber eyes, I moved onto the stool, curling my feet around the spokes at the bottom and angling my body towards his.

I examined him, taking in his features. His hair was an array of bronzes and coppers, sticking out in all directions and begging me to touch it. He had strong cheekbones and blush-colored lips, and his eyes were... everything. Looking into them, I was lost and found all at once. My heart took off at a gallop, and the rushing in my chest got stronger and more insistent. This was it. I knew it like I knew the sun would set tonight just to rise again in the morning. This was what I had been feeling since I'd gotten here. What I'd been waiting for. Anticipating.

Mr. Banner was lecturing in the front of the room, but in my mind I was alone with Edward. I didn't know what this meant, what _he_ meant, but I knew this moment was important. So I held his eyes, my fingers still grasping my locket, and watched him as he watched me.

"Are you..."

I raised my eyebrows, willing him to continue.

"When did you arrive in Forks? You've just moved here, yes?"

His voice was like velvet over silk, tactile and melodious and rich. It intoxicated me. He intoxicated me.

"My plane landed on Saturday. It's been a busy weekend."

"Indeed."

His mouth quirked into a smile at his affirmation, and he seemed to be remembering something amusing, seeing something I didn't.

"And you're from Arizona," he continued after a moment. It was a question and a statement at once.

"Amongst other places. I moved a lot."

"But not anymore," he asked, a measure of urgency in his voice.

"Not anymore," I agreed. "I'm home now."

And that was it. We didn't speak beyond that exchange, opting to watch each other instead. Mr. Banner complained from the front of the room, demanding our attention, and we both obligingly turned, our movements in sync, seemingly paying attention to a lecture on mitosis, but I was still watching, marking, cataloguing the existence of the enigmatically important creature next to me out of the corner of my eye, and I could see he was doing the same. The bell rang thirty minutes later, and Edward and I rose and reached for our bags. I met his eyes once more, smiling at him as I stepped back.

"It was a pleasure to meet you, Edward," I whispered, mindful of the many pairs of eyes in the room watching our goodbye.

"It was transcendent, Isabella."

He moved to walk past me brushing past my shoulder with his taller form, but he stopped next to me, his breath cool and sweet against my skin as he whispered, "Until we meet again."

**A/N: I went to check something with my story today, only to find that it apparently no longer existed on FF. Has anyone had this problem? I'm posting this assuming all three chapters will be there... let me know, please. I'm miffed.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

Edward Cullen never talks to anyone. At least, this is what I was told.

Mike and Jessica pounced on me the moment I left the classroom. Jessica was pouting in disbelief, demanding to know what we'd talked about and if we'd met before. She saw him looking at me. Saw him smiling. Apparently, Edward Cullen never smiles, either.

Mike sneered and warned me away from the Cullen family, telling me they were stuck-up freaks who looked down on anyone who wasn't as rich as they were. He told me he didn't like the way Edward was looking at me as he walked away, told me that he was obviously just messing with my head and would hurt my feelings. I wondered what Edward had done to Mike personally to make him feel this way. I wondered how harshly Edward had rejected Jessica's advances to make her so jealous of such a small amount of attention.

The rest of the day passed rather quickly. I had only gym to get through, and survived the multiple sets of volleyball with a surprising amount of grace. I managed to duck past Mike as he stood waiting for me to exit the locker room, and made it to my Bug with relative ease before remembering that I had meant to check out my locker in the Arts Building at the end of the day. Frowning, I spun on my heel and trudged across campus, cursing the fact that my locker was not only in a building I would never use, but also in the building farthest from the parking lot.

It took four tries to get my locker open, and another three to get it closed again. I was sweating and cursing by the time I finally got the door to shut and lock, muttering to myself about the supreme unfairness of the universe to curse me with such a useless amenity. It wasn't until I was standing at the end of the hallway with my hand on the door that I heard the familiar ringtone, and it wasn't until I thoroughly searched my pockets that I realized that I had left my entire backpack in the devil locker.

"Bloody hell," I whined, kicking the doorframe and thoroughly stubbing my toe in the process. I limped back to fight with the locker demon once more, tears in my eyes from my throbbing toe, listening to Beethoven as it echoed sharply through the vented metal door that absolutely refused to open. By the time I made it to my destination, the ringing had stopped, but started up again almost immediately. Someone really wanted to talk to me, and my hands were shaking from frustration too much to allow me to properly pry open the door.

"A little help?" a bell-like voice suddenly trilled from my left.

I turned, startled, towards the source of the noise, a petite girl with spiky black hair and a charming smile.

"I can get it," I muttered, trying once more to open it the conventional way before almost immediately deteriorating into beating it with my fists. Apparently, it wasn't enough for me to hurt my poor toe... my hands wanted into the mix, too. The strange girl next to me laughed.

"Come on, Bells, budge over. Leave this to the professionals."

The girl gave me a firm yet gentle shove, effectively protecting the locker from my fists of fury and protecting my knuckles from further injury. With an ease that made me sick, the girl had the door unlocked and open in seconds, offering me a sympathetic smile and nodding towards the still-ringing cell phone lighting up the front pocket of my bag.

"Thanks," I begrudged, fumbling with the zipper of my Jansport and retrieving my cell. "Hello?"

"Finally, Isabella, I've been trying to reach you forever."

I don't know what voice I expected to her, but it wasn't my mother's. I froze for a moment, shocked that she would even call, let alone continue to call until I answered.

"I... I'm sorry. I couldn't get to my phone and-"

"Where is that computer that was in the purple room?" my mother interrupted.

What? The purple room?

Oh.

"You mean my room, mom?"

"Yes, Isabella. Where is the computer?"

"I brought it with me, mom. It was mine."

"That was _not_ yours, Isabella. That was the family's. You thought you could just take it with you? Computers are expensive, you know."

I bit my lip, wishing I was in my treehouse right now, or even in my car... anywhere but in this strange hallways standing next to this strange little girl.

"I paid for half of it, mom, so I assumed it was mine. I apologize. I'll ship it back to you tomorrow... Is... is there any way you could reimburse me for the money I contributed to it? So I can replace it?" I asked hopefully, knowing the answer before I even asked the question.

"We have a baby on the way, Isabella. You think Phil and I are made of money? Don't be so selfish."

"You're right, mom. I apologize. How are you and-"

"Make sure you send that computer straight back to Arizona. I don't know why you would think it's alright to just leave Phil and I without a computer. Honestly, Isabella," my mom huffed. I heard a male voice in the background. Phil.

"I will. I'm sorry, mom. I love-"

"I have to go now. Bye."

I kept the phone to my ear, finishing our conversation for the benefit of the person standing next to me. My mother had never been that rude to me before. Never been that outwardly selfish. Maybe it was Phil's influence. Maybe the distance allowed her true nature to show. But I kept talking, telling her I loved her and promising to call her again soon. Laughing at jokes she wasn't making and worries she wasn't expressing, cringing when the dial tone began to beep loudly in my ear.

Finally, I closed my cell phone, making a big show of maneuvering it back into the front pocket of my bag. Composing my face so I could turn and face my new shadow without tears in my eyes.

"Thank you again," I said after an age, slinging my bag over my shoulder and forcing the door shut again. "I don't think this locker likes me very much."

"It was no problem," she demurred, smiling again. "I'm Alice."

"Nice to meet you," I replied, working hard to return her smile. I wanted to go home and cry. I wanted to throw my phone against a wall. I wanted... "I'm Isab... wait. How did you know my name before?"

She looked uncomfortable for a moment, her eyes leaving mine, before bouncing on her toes and laughing, shrugging off my confusion.

"It's a small town, Bella. Everyone knows your name."

"But only my father calls me 'Bella.'"

"And he talks about you _all the time_," she insisted before seeming to search her mind for an appropriate topic change. "Who was on the phone?"

"My mom," I answered, swallowing back the tears which seemed intent to overtake me at any moment.

"She must miss you a lot," Alice ventured. She seemed to be watching my expression carefully. She seemed to be waiting for a reaction.

"Of course she does," I breezed, not meaning it. "She's my mother."

It was coming. I felt the lump in my throat, the heat behind my eyes. I had to get out of here. Had to get somewhere private before I further humiliated myself.

"Anyway, Alice it was really nice meeting you," I offered, inching my way towards the door.

"You, too, Bella. I can tell we're going to be great friends."

She gave me a sad smile and a little wave, and I moved quickly out of the building.

It was pouring outside, like the storm the night before but without the lightning or the wind. The rain came down in sheets, obscuring everything around me, battering the tin awnings that covered the walkways. I made it a few feet from the Arts Building before I dropped my bag, sinking to my knees on the damp concrete and letting my tears finally overtake me.

My mother had been everything to me when I was little. I hadn't understood at first. The men and the constant moving, the broken promises and the gradual distancing... I always thought it meant I needed to try harder. I always thought...

"Good girl, Bella. Let it go."

Cold arms wrapped around me from behind. A tinkling voice was whispering in my ear. My sobs grew louder. I'd been discovered.

"It's alright, Bella. Everything's going to be alright."

She was rocking me, now. Back and forth, back and forth...

"I tried so hard," I finally wailed, clutching at Alice, fisting my hands into her sweater. "She never saw me. Why didn't she see me? I wasn't there. I didn't exist. I don't exist..."

"Yes you do, Bella. You're here and I see you and you exist. And Charlie sees you. Charlie loves you, Bella. You should've heard him go on to Esme. He was so excited when you called him. So excited when he knew you were coming. He loves you so much, Bella. You're loved and you exist."

She was holding me tighter, speaking so quickly I almost missed her words. This girl I'd known for ten minutes was comforting me in a way that nobody ever had. And I wanted to be embarrassed and shy... I wanted to wipe my eyes and run away... but I couldn't.

We sat there like that for an age. I clung to her, resting my head on her shoulder as she rubbed soothing circles on my back and whispered words of affection and encouragement in my ear. I'd calm down for a bit and start up again, another memory drifting to the surface, another regret making itself known.

"I told you we'd be friends," Alice whispered to me when I'd finally calmed down for good.

"God, Alice, I'm so so sorry," I yelped, jerking away from her. The shoulder of her green sweater was damp with tears and misshapen in the places where I'd held onto her.

"I wasn't being sarcastic, Bella. And I meant what I said. We're friends, and friends are there for each other, especially when they're needed."

"I just... it's been so stressful and-"

"Of course it has. You've been in Forks for what? Two days? You're living in a new house, starting a new school, and forging a relationship with a man you haven't seen in years. If anyone's entitled to a cry, Bella, it's you."

She caught my eye and held it, nodding to me in understanding. I wrung my hands in my lap, letting silence stretch between us.

"I think we both know that's not why I was crying, Alice," I finally said, quietly.

"Yes, well..."

"Thank you," I said quickly, before I lost my nerve. "Thank you Alice. You've saved me twice today."

"All part of the job description, Isabella Swan. Super Alice at your service."

She grinned and winked before rising gracefully to her feet, extending her hand to haul me up and handing me my backpack once I'd gotten myself dusted off. Before I knew what was happening, I had been pulled into a bone crushing hug. For such a short girl, she was pretty damn strong.

"Now get your cute ass home, Bella. I'm sure the Chief is worried about you."

**A/N: Mixed feelings about this chapter. Lemme know if you think I should kill it.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

I got home with dry eyes and a lighter heart. Alice had been right, of course. Everyone needs to cry sometime. And now I felt immensely better.

Charlie wasn't even home yet, so I hurried up to my room, grabbing the laptop that was sitting at the foot of my bed and powering it on, intent to remove all of my personal information from it. When internet history had been erased, cookies deleted, and documents transferred to a jump drive I kept in my backpack, I grabbed the charger and headed back out the door, reaching the Forks Post Office just before it closed. Goodbye, laptop. I'll miss you.

Over a dinner of pot roast and potatoes, I asked Charlie if there was a computer in the house that I could use for school. He had a netbook that the station provided for him, but that was for work purposes only.

"What about that Dell I saw up in your room, Bells?" Charlie asked through a mouthful of roasted potatoes.

"It... broke. Just this morning. The motherboard fried. I threw it away."

"Well, that's a shame. Look, I'll ask around the station and see if anyone has a used laptop they'd like to-"

"That's alright, Charlie. I'll just go to the library and use theirs."

"You sure?"

"Positive."

And that was the end of that.

Last night I dreamed about the Forks High cafeteria. I sat at a big round table in one of the more dimly lit corners, with Edward at my right and Alice at my left. There were three more people at the table, people I didn't recognize, but they shared Edward and Alice's pale complexions and they seemed friendly enough.

The dream shifted, and now I was standing in the school parking lot fumbling with my keys. A loud screeching sound filled the air, and I looked up just in time to see a large SUV spinning out of control, headed right towards...

I woke up sweating and couldn't go back to sleep. I paced the room, thinking, planning, trying to find a way to stay home from school that day, or maybe go home early. I had seen people all over the parking lot... it looked like it happened at the end of the day. I didn't want to get hit by a car. I didn't want these dreams...

Like the night before, I ended up sitting cross legged on my desk, cradling my locket in my hands and watching the wind blow through my tree. No matter how much my eyelids drooped, I did not permit myself to go back to sleep. I didn't want to see anymore. Not tonight.

When the sun began to rise, I started getting ready. I took an extra-long shower, deep conditioning my hair just to kill time. I brushed my teeth and rubbed lotion into my skin. Heading back up to my room, I noticed the sun hadn't gotten much higher, and I went right back into the bathroom and blow dried my hair out of desperation.

Visions of that car skidding towards me filled every part of my awareness. As an exercise, I tried concentrating on the scene that had played out before the parking lot. I tried to notice what was on the table in the cafeteria, what Alice was saying next to me... but every time I would get close enough I'd hear the tires squealing again. I eventually gave up.

Back in my room, I dressed carefully, selecting clothes that I had not seen myself wearing. I opened my window and stuck my hand outside, shivering when I realized that it was quite a bit colder than the day before. I would have to wear a jacket. My only jacket. I wanted to cry when I realized that today's weather basically guaranteed the necessity of the outfit I wanted to avoid. Biting back a sob, I pulled on my heaviest pair of jeans and the long-sleeve purple thermal that was my only warm shirt. I yanked on my only pair of sneakers, brown canvas ones that had the tendency to absorb any rainwater in a five mile radius. I really needed to go shopping. If I was still alive...

I looked in the mirror attached the the back of my door for what felt like a year. I took stock of the situation. I had dreamed about getting hit by a car. Not all of my dreams were prophetic ones... sometimes I dreamed in the abstract. But this hadn't looked abstract. Still, it might not happen. And I would try to avoid it anyway. I knew there was no way I'd be permitted to miss my second day of school, but maybe I could make myself sick while I was there. Or maybe I could get a pass to miss last period gym. Or maybe I could avoid the parking lot altogether... I could hide in the school library until everyone was gone...

A branch snapped outside my window, and I was brought back into myself. I was familiar with the nature of destiny at this point. Anything that wanted to happen would. All I could do was sit back and allow it. I would take every precaution to avoid the parking lot today, but fate had a way of making itself known. There was ultimately nothing I could do.

I sighed, brushing my hair out of my face, catching the movement in the mirror. And I looked at myself, really looked, for the first time in... ever. I looked at myself the way I'd looked at Edward yesterday, and I realized that Edward was the first person whose appearance I actually noticed. I'd always taken in the details of people, hair color, prominent features, but never combined them into an entire person. But Edward... Edward I saw as the sum of his parts. And I wondered how he saw me.

I had long brown hair. I knew that. But I really looked now, scrutinizing. It was a deep brown, mahogany, like my desk. It hung past the small of my back, and I wondered when it had gotten so long. It had a wave to it, which I knew would get more defined once I stepped out into the damp Washington air. And it was shiny. Very shiny, actually. Probably a by-product of my thorough conditioning job earlier.

I had brown eyes like my mother. I remembered that hers had tiny flecks of green in them, and I moved closer to the mirror, noticing that mine had them, too. I had long, thick eyelashes. When I concentrated, I could feel them dusting my cheeks as I blinked. A memory surfaced, unbidden, of my mother jokingly calling me "Bambi" before we moved. I smiled against my will and then thought about something else.

My cheekbones weren't as nice as Edward's, and my complexion wasn't as even, but my cheeks had a natural blush to them and my face was a nice shape. My lips weren't as beautiful as his, but they were full and soft, thanks to almost fanatical Chapstick application, and when I tried smiling for myself, I decided I liked the way it looked.

I took a step backwards. My driver's license said I was 5'7", and I took it at its word. I started with my legs, noting for the first time that they looked a bit silly encased in the baggy denim of my too-big jeans. My purple shirt was just as big, sitting shapelessly against my torso. After I'd met Mark, I had taken to dressing nicer, buying things that I felt fit me better. If this was better, I wondered what I had looked like before.

Edward's details combined to make him beautiful. His eyes, his mouth, his impossible hair, even the pale, graceful fingers I'd noticed twitching against the lab table, they all combined to equal Edward. I took stock of my own details, my hair and my face and my body, and decided that I could probably be pretty if I tried. I needed new clothes anyway, things that would withstand the dampness and chill of Forks winters, so why not buy clothes that looked better on me? Maybe Alice would help. We're friends, after all.

Every noise at school made me jump. Every backpack dropped carelessly to the ground, every desk scraping across the linoleum, had me huddling in fear, waiting for the truck to hit me. By the time I made it to lunch, I was a bundle of raw nerves, but Alice, as was her way, saved me.

She met me at the door to the lunch room, tinkling on about her day and the weather, telling me that I looked nice in purple and I should wear it more often. Which reminded me...

"Alice, do you think you could go shopping with me this weekend?"

I never knew a girl could jump and clap that much.

"YES! Oh my god, Bella, I thought you'd never ask! We'll go to Port Angeles and we'll get you all sorts of things! It'll be amazing! Maybe we could even go to Seattle! I'll have to look... I'm so, so, so excited, Bella! You're going to look beautiful!"

So that went well.

While I carefully selected the least wilted salad and the freshest looking slice of pizza, Alice arbitrarily dumped things onto her tray, talking the entire time and not once looking at what she was doing. Still, I wasn't in any position to judge someone else's taste in cafeteria fare, so I said nothing as we paid for our food and I was dragged bodily to a table in the back of the room that I hadn't noticed yesterday, the table I had dreamed about last night.

"Isabella Swan, I'd like you to meet my family," Alice crowed, gesturing around the table. Edward wasn't there yet, but the others were, the one's I'd technically met last night.

"This is Emmett," she began, pointing to a giant of a man with wide shoulders and short, curly hair. "Rosalie," she continued, pointing to one of the most beautiful women I'd ever seen. She had ice-blonde hair just a touch shorter than mine, and some rather pronounced and intimidating cleavage peeking up from beneath her v-neck. "And this is my Jasper," Alice finished with pride, wrapping her arms around the wiry boy next to her. He had chin-length, wavy blonde hair similar in color to Rosalie's, and, though he smiled at Alice's embrace, he seemed uncomfortable overall.

"It's nice to meet you guys," I offered, trying to smile as I moved into my seat. "How are you guys related?"

"We're adopted," answered a smooth voice next to me, causing every nerve in my body to vibrate in anticipation. "It's wonderful to see you again, Isabella."

Edward dropped gracefully into his chair and smiled at me, a wide, genuine, lopsided smile that made my heart race and my palms sweat. There was something about his proximity that did crazy things with my brain, but with how focused my thoughts had been on the car wreck all day, I welcomed his presence and the reprieve it brought me.

"You too, Edward," I murmured, hyper-aware of how close his arm was to mine on the table. I closed my eyes for a moment and tried to catalogue the things his nearness were eliciting from my body, but I suddenly realized what he'd said when he first sat down. "Adopted? All of you?"

"Jasper and Rosalie are twins," Alice explained, "their mom was Esme's sister."

"And Alice is my twin, and Emmett our older brother" Edward continued. "Our father was Carlisle's cousin."

"Carlisle?"

"Our dad. Esme's husband."

"So... what happened?" I asked, desperately trying to follow along but coming up short.

"Our mother died in a car crash when we were twelve," Jasper said quietly, keeping his eyes on the lunch tray in front of him.

"And our parents died when Ali and I were 8," Edward finished, leaning forward to quirk a smile at Alice.

"Carlisle and Esme took us in," Emmett explained in a deep baritone. "They're our parents. And we're a family."

"Big family," I muttered, shaking my head in awe.

"Don't talk about things you don't understand," Rosalie hissed at me, snatching up her things and stalking away from the table, leaving a stunned silence in her wake.

"I... I didn't mean it like that. Of course I didn't mean it like that. I would never say anything bad about your family or anyone else's. Christ, you should see _my_ family! We're as fucked up as you get! I'm so, so sorry, you guys. I didn't mean..."

Alice placed a cool hand on my shoulder and shook her head, smiling.

"We know you didn't mean it like that, Bella. It's not your fault. We're the one's who should be apologizing here. Rosalie's just..."

"Rosie's just a bitch," Emmett offered, a wide smile on his face. "But she's _my_ bitch," he added, smirking, "and I wouldn't take her any other way."

Well now, this was something new to think about...

"Wait... you mean you two..."

"Rosie's the love of my life," Emmett said, still smiling.

"And Alice, you said you and Jasper..."

"We're also together," Jasper confirmed, still looking uncomfortably at the table.

"But how does that work?"

"Carlisle and Esme understand. There are some... house rules, but they know you can't choose who you love," Alice said, studying my face.

"What about Edward?" I asked after a moment.

"I've always been sort of a loner," Edward said quietly.

I was sad, then, thinking it unfair that Edward should have to live in a house of couples, thinking of how lonely it must be being the odd person out...

"Don't worry, Isabella," Alice whispered, leaning into me. "Edward won't be alone for long."

**A/N: I know you guys think Renee was a bitch last chapter... that's because she WAS. Maybe Isabella has more than one power... and maybe Renee's behavior when her daughter's at a distance has something to do with that...**

**Guess, kids. If you get it right, I'll PM you and let you know. :)**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

Edward walked me to biology. He tried to carry my book bag, but I shrugged the gesture off as silly. I tried not to notice the disappointment in his eyes.

We reached the classroom before anyone else, and I watched idly as Mr. Banner readied a television set at the front of the room. Apparently, we'd be watching a movie today. I couldn't decide if that was a good thing or not.

A loud bang had me jumping out of my seat a second later, my heart racing. I whimpered as I remembered what was coming for me today. What my dreams had shown me. But then, Edward was there, taking my chin between his fingertips and turning my head until my vision was filled with nothing but him.

"You are alright, Isabella," he murmured, placing his free hand on my back in an almost-embrace. "Nothing will hurt you. Not while I'm around."

A tear made its way from my eye, and he caught it with his thumb before it could complete it's journey down my cheek.

"But you don't know," I whispered, suddenly desperate for the first time in my life to tell someone all my secrets. "Something's coming... something's going to happen..."

"We'll face it together," he replied, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

"Together," I echoed, watching him watching me.

Lights were switched off and a video was started. Edward took my hand in his, entwining our fingers on top of the table. For a while, I watched our joined hands as I should have been watching the movie, marveling at how seamlessly they seemed to fit together, how at home my smaller palm felt pressed against his larger one. Suddenly, the rushing feeling was back in my chest, threatening to overtake me.

"We're alright," Edward whispered in my ear. "I promise."

I took extra time getting dressed after gym, pulling my school clothes on slowly and playing with my hair in the mirror as though it was important to me. Ten minutes after the final bell had rung, Ms. Waters came out of her office and politely asked me to leave so she could lock up. So much for killing time.

I walked to the Arts Building to drop off the books I wouldn't need tonight. My locker opened easily today, and I wondered if someone had replaced it. The metal around the edges was no longer bent out of shape, the hinges were no longer squeaking. But there were still impressions from my knuckles on the front... so maybe I was imagining things.

It occurred to me as I walked as slowly as possible across campus that I should have asked Charlie for a ride today. Or walked to school, maybe. I tried the door to the school library, but it was locked with a note in the window. There was a staff meeting going on inside. No students allowed.

The campus was quiet at this point. A few boys that I recognized to be seniors were kicking a ball around on the school's damp soccer field, but there was no other movement. Even the wind seemed to be waiting for something. I squared my shoulders, digging my keys out and holding them firmly in my hand. There would be no fumbling near my car. I would get to it quickly and leave the school in one piece. No screaming tires. No skidding SUVs. I would defeat the dream.

There were only a few people in the parking lot when I got there, and there wasn't an SUV in sight. I breathed a little easier, stepping off the curb and onto the asphalt, walking quickly towards where my Beetle was parked in the back of the lot. I payed careful attention to each parked car and it's proximity to me. There was a smoke grey Mercedes parked close to the school. But it was behind me now, so I wrote it off and moved on. There was a beat-up red Civic to my right. No driver. I was safe. I walked faster now. A blue Toyota. A brown Suzuki. No drivers, no people, no threats. I was almost there. I started to jog. A black mini-van. But there were kids around it. I recognized Mike and Jessica as I moved past it. I heard an engine start. But it was far away. And I was almost to my car. And I hadn't dreamed about that car anyway. Still, I took off in a full run. Just to be safe.

My foot hit a puddle and suddenly I was on my back just feet from my car. Maybe this was fate getting back at me, making me fall. I clenched my fists, damp from the wet ground and trying to ignore the pain radiating from my ankle... but ultimately, I was alright. I was alive. I wasn't seriously injured. My keys must have flown from my hands during the fall, though, because I couldn't find them anymore. I went to stand, to look for them, but my ankle refused to cooperate and I found myself on my back again. And that's when I heard it.

The sound of the engine getting closer had me looking around. It was the black van. I could see a boy I had met yesterday at lunch, Tyler, my brain supplied, behind the wheel. He didn't seem to be going fast enough to hydroplane, so I wasn't panicking just yet, but memories of the sound I'd heard the night before had me struggling once more to get up, hopping over to the bumper of my car. But I still didn't have my keys... and then it happened.

A dog came out of nowhere and walked into the center of the parking lot. Tyler saw it and slammed on the brakes, swerving to avoid hitting it. And there was the sound. I watched in slow motion as the van began to slide towards my car. I tried to jump away, but my ankle protested and I wound up on the ground instead. And the screeching noise, it was everywhere, chasing me. I looked up in time to see the van's fender about to slam into the passenger side of my car. The passenger side of my car where I was lying, helpless, and in the direct path of one of the out-of-control tires. I closed my eyes. I waited for the inevitable. And then everything went black.

I dreamed about cold, strong arms and whispered promises. There was copper hair and pale skin, but the images lacked clarity, the words lacked definition. I felt myself being lifted from the ground, and felt wind rushing through my hair as my body seemed to travel through space at an impossible clip. I dreamed about soft leather under my skin and a roaring fire in the corner. And then I woke up.

The room was not mine. The room was not anywhere I'd been before. But it felt familiar, and I felt inexplicably safe. The walls of the room were almost entirely glass, large, unadorned panels which gave view to a lush forest outside them. The walls that weren't windows were painted a soft, dove grey, and one was filled with dozens of floating shelves supporting what looked to be a rather formidable vinyl collection. I turned my head, trying to take in more of my surroundings, and heard the tell-tale squeak of a leather sofa as my body shifted. I ran my fingers over it, realizing that this was the leather I had dreamed about just moments ago, and I concentrated my hearing, noticing the tell-tale popping sound of a fire from somewhere on the wall behind my head. I had found my sofa and I had found my fire. Now... what else had happened?

I pushed myself up from the couch, planning on taking further inventory of my surroundings, but a dizzy spell sent me right back down again.

"Slowly, Isabella," a familiar voice called quietly from behind me. "Slowly."

"Edward," I whispered, almost against my will. "Edward?"

"You hit your head," he explained, settling himself on the far arm of the couch. "I brought you here so Carlisle could look at you. He assures me you're fine, but-"

"Carlisle?"

"My father. He's a doctor. I called him when I found you in the parking lot, and he suggested I bring you here so he could-"

"The school parking lot," I repeated, slowly lifting my eyes to meet his.

"Yes. You slipped and-"

"There was a puddle," I murmured to myself. "I needed to get to my car, but there was a puddle, and..."

Slowly, as though they had been buried deep within the ocean of my mind, the memories surfaced. The dream and the panic. The feel of the pavement as I slipped. The sound of the car as it approached me. The squeal of the breaks, the smell of burning rubber as the vehicle swerved to avoid the animal in its path. As the vehicle swerved towards me instead...

"The car," I mumbled, suddenly panicked. "Oh god. The car. It was going to hit me. I couldn't avoid it. I tried so hard. But it had to hit me. It had to. It hit me. It hit me. I'm dead."

I jerked myself into a ball, ignoring the dizziness that threatened to overtake me, giving in to the sobs that ripped through my body with surprising force. I was dead. I was dead and this was the afterlife. And Edward was here...

"Edward, the _car_," I wailed, suddenly throwing myself at him, my arms wrapping around his hard torso as he flinched in surprise. "Were you there? I didn't see you, but you're here now. I'm so sorry, Edward. If I had just told you about my dream, you could have saved yourself. I'm so sorry. So sorry. Please forgive me, Edward. Please go back. You can't be dead. You can't be dead..."

"Isabella, you're not dead. Shhh. Quiet now, Isabella, you need to listen to me. Please listen, baby. Please. Calm now, Isabella. You need to be calm. Can you calm down for me? Please, baby. Please calm down."

He was running his fingers through my hair. His hands felt cold against my scalp, soothing my overheated body as I struggled to rein in my panic. We sat there for an age, him calming me with his voice and hands, me fighting against my emotions. It took forever for me to quiet down, and his patience was unending.

"Alright now?" he asked when I was finally calm, tipping my chin up and searching my face.

"Tell me what happened?" I asked quietly.

"I was walking to my car when I saw you across the way. You slipped and fell onto your back, hitting your head. I was so worried, Isabella. I ran over to you, called your name, but you were out cold. When you wouldn't respond, I brought you here and called my father. I was so worried. Carlisle says you're alright, though. Just some bumps and bruises. He says your ankle may be sore for a few days, and you should take it easy, but overall you're fine. You're fine, Isabella. I promise you."

He had met my eyes through the whole explanation. His tone had been sincere. His words had made perfect sense. I remembered slipping. I remembered my ankle hurting. I wanted to accept his explanation. It would have been easier to accept his explanation. But I knew myself, I knew my dreams, and I knew what I remembered. Edward was lying.

"Why?" I whispered, my eyes filling with more tears.

"Why what, Isabella?" he asked, tucking a few strands of hair behind my ear.

"Why are you lying to me?"

If I hadn't been watching for it, I wouldn't have seen it happened. But it was there. That flicker of surprise and fear in his eyes before he schooled his expression into one of confusion.

"I don't know what you're talking about. I'd never lie to you."

"You're doing it now," I persisted, rising shakily to my feet before him. He reached out to touch me again, but I ducked away from the contact. "You're lying to me, Edward. Just tell me the truth."

"Isabella," he began warningly, but I cut him off.

"No!" I snapped, taking a step backwards, away from him. "Don't cover one lie with another. Don't tell me you're being honest when you're not. Don't _lie_ to me!"

He watched me incredulously, his hands balling into fists. He opened his mouth to speak again, but I shook my head.

"I saw it, Edward. I saw it _twice_. I got hit by a car today. I tried to avoid it, but it happened anyway, like I knew that it would. Like it always does. It _happened_, Edward, so tell me how I'm standing here. Tell me how I'm here!" I screamed, my voice becoming shriller by the minute.

"Isabella," he began again, taking a cautious step towards me, "nothing-"

"Edward," a bell-like voice called out from behind me, "leave us for a moment, please."

We both turned, though I seemed to be the only one startled by the intrusion. Edward looked like he was about to argue, but seemed to think better of it, offering me a sad smile before crossing the room and walking out the door.

"Sit down, Bella," Alice said to me, closing the door behind her brother. "We need to talk."

**A/N: Feedback is appreciated. **


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

Alice crossed the room, gently taking my elbow and guiding me back down onto the couch. Rather than sitting next to me, she dropped gracefully onto the floor in front of me, folding her legs beneath her and wrapping one of her small hands around my injured ankle.

"Does that feel better?" Alice asked quietly, watching my face.

"Y-yes. It does."

And it did. It felt surprisingly better...

"Alice, why are your hands so cold?"

"Not yet, Bella. Let's talk about you first."

She stared at me and I stared at her. Outside the room, rain began to spatter across the glass of the windows. Inside the room, the fire popped and crackled. A clock ticked loudly from somewhere in the house. Down the hall, a floorboard creaked. And then Alice spoke.

"What do you dream about, Isabella Swan?"

"Oh... you know... the usual," I deflected, cringing at the tremble that permeated my voice. "What do _you_ dream about?"

"I don't dream, Bella. I never have. But we're not talking about me right now."

"Look, Alice, I don't know what you're-"

"Did you have a bad dream last night? A nightmare?" she interrupted, refusing to break eye contact. Her tone was almost confrontational, but her expression was understanding.

"So what if I did?" I asked defensively. "And what do you mean you don't dream? Everybody dreams."

"What was your nightmare about?"

"Alice, I-"

"Look, Isabella, I know how this conversation plays out. I've seen it a million different ways, but the end result is always the same. And if you want information from me then you'll have to give me some reciprocity here. I'll tell you what happened today. But you need to tell me why you _already know_ what happened."

I stared at her stubbornly, but she didn't blink. She straightened her spine, elongating her neck, rolling her shoulders back, and suddenly she seemed a lot older than a high school student. Suddenly she occupied all the space in the room. Suddenly she exuded authority.

"You're going to tell me, Isabella. You know that," she began more gently. And I nodded. Because she was right. "I wasn't lying when I said we'd be friends. And I wasn't lying when I said I'd be there for you. That's what I'm trying to do. Right now. But I need your help."

I dropped her gaze, concentrating on the wood grains of the floor.

"It's... I'm not... My dream. It wasn't a nightmare." I felt my shoulders begin to shake and my eyes begin to fill with tears. I would tell her this and she would hate me. All the Cullens would hate me. And they'd tell Charlie what a freak I am. And he'd send me back to Renee...

"Whatever it was, Bella, we'll deal with it together."

"You don't understand-"

"I could if you'd let me."

She let go of my ankle and rose from the floor, gripping the edge of one of the massive glass panels and sliding it open to the forest outside. Grabbing a blanket from the back of the couch, she wrapped it around my shoulders before guiding me to sit next to her at the edge of the window, our feet dangling in the lush greenery outside. The rain had dissipated into a mist, and the damp air felt cool and refreshing across my face.

"When I was a little girl, I saw my parents break up," I began. "My Mom took me, and she moved me around the country with her. Every few years, it was a new school, new apartment, new job, new man... but then I'd see the men upset her. I'd see Mom feel betrayed. And we'd move again. And again. And again..."

I glanced over at Alice and she nodded encouragingly, staring out into the trees.

"Finally, we moved to Arizona. And Mom got a decent job... a job she seemed to like. I made some friends. I met Mark. Life was... it wasn't great, but it was so much better than it used to be. And then I saw Mom meet Phil. And they were together constantly. And when she was with him, she was away from me... but it was OK... because I had Mark, you know? We took care of each other, Mark and I. And Mom... Mom was happy, I think. And then I saw Phil propose. And they got married. And Phil moved in. And Mom got quieter. And I saw Mom pregnant. And Phil was so happy. And Mom stopped talking to me. And I saw Phil tell Mom he didn't want me around anymore... and Mom just nodded. She agreed. That's when I called Charlie. That's when I knew I had to leave. And I never told anyone that I know... Mark didn't even know all of it... because if people knew what I was seeing... I mean... what if there's something wrong with me, you know?"

I paused for a few minutes, just breathing, watching the trees. Alice didn't make a sound, didn't move a muscle. I heard the bedroom door open and close behind me, and from the corner of my eye watched Edward come in and sit down on the couch, watching me warily. I just kept watching the trees, collecting my thoughts.

"Mark wanted us to stay together. He told me he loved me. He put together this romantic last night, with a nice dinner and a nice hotel... and that night, after we made love, I saw this boy. This man. We were sitting together in this tall grass, and there were wildflowers everywhere. And he was telling me about his family. He was telling me about his life. And he was just... he was just so beautiful. More beautiful than anything I'd ever seen before. And he was talking to me like there was no one else in the world he'd rather talk to. And when I woke up, I knew that I couldn't stay with Mark. If this person was in my future, I could never stay with Mark. And Mark cried... when I told him goodbye for the last time, he was so sad... and I felt so sad for him... but I didn't feel sad for myself, because I knew there was this boy somewhere..."

Edward shifted on the couch behind me, and I turned my head, just slightly, and caught his gaze. His eyes were molten, blazing with something that I didn't quite understand... but I knew that in that moment my eyes contained the same fire. I hadn't described him, but Edward knew he was the one I had left Mark for. A lifetime of communication passed between us just then, silent, smoldering, all in a look. The rushing feeling in my chest became overpowering, and I reached into my shirt, retrieving my locket, holding it close when all I wanted to do was hold Edward instead.

"When you say you 'saw' these things... what do you mean by that, Bella?" Alice prompted softly, gently pulling me away from Edward's magnetic stare.

"I have journals... well, I have composition books anyway. I keep them by my bed. And when I wake up... when I wake up, I write down everything I see. Everything I saw. I started when I was a freshman. And I have so many filled-up books now..."

"So these visions come in dream form?" Alice asked.

"Visions... I've never really thought about them like that... but... yes... they're dreams. Sometimes they're things that are happening at that moment, while I'm sleeping. I'm pretty sure the first one, the one of Renee leaving Charlie, had happened that night while I was in bed. Others... they're of the future. Sometimes they're just people, flashes of faces or conversations. Other times, they play out like movies."

"And when you came to Forks? What did you see?"

"I saw different things... random kids at school, sitting with your family at lunch... I saw my new desk... I saw the locket hidden inside it..."

"That locket," Alice asked, gesturing towards the metal clutched between my fingers.

"Yes," I replied, handing it to her so she could examine it. "My first night, I dreamed about my desk. I saw it sitting in front of the window in my bedroom, saw myself admiring it. The next day, it was there, delivered while I was at the grocery store. And then, that night, I dreamed about finding my locket in a hidden compartment in the back."

"Really, now," Alice murmured, shooting her brother a glance. The action confused me, but I let it go, nodding. "And last night? Tell me what you dreamed about last night?"

"I saw myself getting hit by a car," I stated, rather calmly. Of all the things I'd shared, all the history I'd laid out on the table... the thing I was the most terrified of seemed to be the easiest for me to say.

Alice had frozen next to me, and Edward had stopped moving as well. Time seemed to have stopped since my admission, and though my chest felt lighter for finally saying it out loud to another person, my admission seemed to have shocked the Cullen siblings.

"That's why I thought I was dead," I explained, turning to Edward and trying to fill the silence. "I'd seen it happen. It was _supposed _to happen."

"Why do you say that?" Alice asked.

"Because I can't change my destiny. I've tried before... I had lots of dreams in Arizona about seniors playing cruel pranks on me, tormenting me in the halls, and every time I tried to avoid them, they happened to me anyway, just in a different time and place. Things that are supposed to happen happen. My trying to change them doesn't fix anything."

"So you believe you were supposed to _die_?" Edward asked sharply, contributing to the conversation for the first time since he'd re-entered the room. "You were just going to _accept it_?"

"I tried to avoid it, Edward, and it happened anyway," I began, motioning to Alice to help me stand again.

"Well, _you should've tried harder_," he all but screamed at me, stomping towards me, his face contorted by anger. "Jesus Christ, Isabella, do you _want_ to die?"

I looked to Alice, but she only shrugged her shoulders, offering me a sympathetic smile. Apparently, I was on my own here.

"Yes, Edward, I wanted to die. In fact, I _threw_ myself in front of that van. I figured it was bound to happen anyway, so I might as well take control. Didn't you see the target on my back? Or did that wash off in the puddle?"

"You're not funny, Isabella," Edward hissed, seething.

"Neither are you, asshole," I hissed back, building up my own healthy dose of rage and indignation. "How dare you ask me those things? How dare you accuse me of not trying hard enough? Who the _fuck_ do you think you are?"

"Who am_ I_? Who are _you_? I saved your _life _today! Do you have any idea how terrified I was? All I could see was your fragile little body and that monstrosity of a fucking car and I was terrified that you would be taken away from me! It was so close, Isabella! Do you have any idea? Any clue at all as to what I went through in that moment? No! You don't! And now you're going to sit there and joke about having a death wish? Do you have any fucking clue how important you are to me?"

"How the fuck am I supposed to know that you saved my life, Edward? I asked you about it and you _lied_! How do you think I felt waking up in the middle of the night, knowing I was probably going to die today? I didn't even let myself go back to sleep! I stayed up all night, panicking, begging the universe not to take me away now that I had finally found someplace I belonged, someplace I wanted to be, someone I _wanted to be with. _And I _tried_ to avoid it! I thought the parking lot was empty enough! I thought I had killed enough time! Don't question my will to live, asshole. You know nothing about me. _Nothing_."

We stared at each other, chests heaving, nostrils flared, fingers curled into fists. I looked around and noticed that Alice had snuck out in the midst of one of our tirades. It was just me and him now, the fire popping in the grate and the wind blowing in from outside. He was hypnotic in his anger, beautiful, deadly. I took it all in, but I couldn't find the energy or the will to care.

"Isabella," he said quietly, after an age, stretching his fingers across the room towards my own. But I had had enough. Enough of this room. Enough of his self-righteous behavior. And I wanted out.

"No, Edward," I replied, holding his eyes as I shook my head at his gesture, his tone. "I've had enough."

"I didn't... I was upset. Please, Isabella," he implored, moving to stand in front of me, moving to cup my cheek in his palm. I ducked his hand and strode across the room to the door.

"I'm tired, Edward," I said, my fingers clutching at the door knob. "I didn't get much sleep last night," I added bitterly.

"Isabella," he tried one more time, his eyes wide, his posture broken.

"Goodbye, Edward," I murmured, stepping out into the hallway and closing the door behind me.

Alice drove me to my car and followed me home after that, telling Charlie that we'd been studying and she hoped he wasn't too upset with her for stealing me. She was charming and bouncy, and Charlie was immediately under her spell.

She stayed for dinner, but didn't eat anything. Afterwards, she followed me up to my room, and we listened to music while she rifled through my wardrobe, planning our weekend shopping trip. She left me soon after, wrapping me in her cool arms and whispering me that everything would be alright again. I wanted to believe her, but it was difficult. Too much had happened. Too much had been revealed. And I missed the blind innocence and anticipation of the day before. The first day.

I went to bed early, wrapping myself in my comforter and stretching out in front of my window, watching my tree dance in the wind. As my mind finally cleared and my eyes drifted shut, I heard myself utter the words I'd been meaning to say since I'd first woken up in the Cullen house. Since I'd first felt the leather of the couch, heard the crackling of the fire.

"Thank you, Edward."

And then I slept.

**A/N: Hey, guys! Long time no update. Sorry. I have good news, though... In Dreams is now on Twilighted! Hooray! **

**Help me celebrate by reviewing. A lot happened here. Lemme know if you think it happened too soon... or too much... lol**


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

I haven't had a dream in days. It's amazing how much I miss them... the dreams. They used to terrify me. There were times that I'd be afraid to go to sleep, convinced that the less I saw, the better. Times like that night, the night I dreamed of the car, of everything, when I refused to shut my eyes, lest the visions creep in. The visions...

Alice leant me her word and a shoulder to cry on... and that night, _that _night, the night Edward Cullen inadvertently helped me cheat death, I slept better than I have in... ever. But I didn't dream. And I still haven't.

The Cullens haven't been in school since it happened. I haven't seen Edward since that day. And I have to wonder if it's because of me... of course, it has to be. It's the only thing that makes sense. Jessica Stanley told me that the Cullens go hiking when it's sunny out. Mike Newton was only too happy to share the massive total that was the end result of a supplies run made by Carlisle in his family's sporting goods store. Everyone scoffed at the excess, at the nerve of these people to spend so much on tents and packs and camp stoves. I wonder why it's anyone's business.

And I wonder why the Cullens aren't coming to school during the day, because every afternoon when I've pulled into my driveway after school, Alice Cullen has been waiting for me.

She's helped me prepare dinner three nights in a row now, but she always leaves before Charlie gets home. And we never really talk about anything.

We talk, but not about that day or what was said. She's still not explained to me what happened, Edward's side of the story. I've still not been given the truth... but I can't find it in me to care. Because I have Alice. And I love Alice.

And if she reminds me of Edward, well... that's just a coincidence...

"Alice, I don't need this," I whined, shoving the blue bundle back at her and stomping my foot like a child.

"Bella, I thought we'd been over this: I don't care," Alice snapped cheerfully. How does _anyone_ snap cheerfully? "Just try it on already."

"No," I pouted, draping the coat over the nearest rack and walking away. Really... this had gone far enough.

"Bella..." Alice began.

"No."

"Bella Bear..."

"_No_."

"Isabella, please? _Please_? Just try it on. It'll take three seconds. Four tops," Alice insisted, moving to stand in front of me. I immediately turned my head away from her.

"No."

But Alice was not one to be deterred. Stepping to the side, she crouched so that she was directly in front of my face and then she... pouted.

Fuck.

"Bella," she all but whimpered, her lip quivering a little.

Fuck.

"Bella, please? For me?" Her forehead was wrinkled, her golden eyes so wide and sad and...

"Fine, Alice. But this is the last one," I relented, moving back and violently shoving my arms through the coat as though it had personally wronged me in some way.

"Sure it is," she replied a little too innocently, clapping her hands and declaring the coat perfect once it was fully on. "We'll take that one, too," she told the salesgirl dreamily, motioning towards the sapphire coat that hadn't even made it off of my body yet. "Just add it to the pile, please."

The girl snapped into action, her eyes bright with the promise of her increasingly huge commission, but I couldn't abide the excess.

"Damn it, Alice, I do not need four coats."

"Of course you do, Isabella," she replied dismissively, already moving on to the next clothing rack.

"Alice, when I said 'go shopping' I meant... I don't know. I just needed some jeans and a jacket... maybe some shirts. Not all _that_," I insisted, gesturing at the growing stack of designer labels behind the cash wrap.

"That's what we're doing, sweetie. I don't see what the problem is. You needed clothes. We're getting you clothes."

"Alice, I can't pay for this..."

"Well, duh. You're my guest. I'm buying."

What the hell...

"Alice..."

"Bella," she cut me off, holding her hand up, "I brought you to Seattle. I brought you to this store. I helped you pick out these things. Of course I'm going to pay for them."

"But..."

"No buts. Everyone deserves to be spoiled now and then. Especially you."

"Alice..."

"Put everything on my account please," Alice said to the girl behind the counter. "And wrap everything but the double-breasted camel trench. She'll be wearing that out."

"Yes, Ms. Cullen," the salesgirl replied with a wide smile, already shifting the clothes into garment bags.

"See, Bella," Alice smiled, handing me my new trench coat, " it's already done."

She helped me into the coat, smiling widely as I once again looked at myself in the mirror. Of all the things she had forced me into, this was by far my favorite. It was soft and beautiful and the color of putty with large ebony buttons and a wide collar. It was the most amazing thing I'd ever put on... and from the look on Alice's face, she knew exactly what it was doing to me.

"Perfect," she muttered after fidgeting with the sash for a moment. "It was made for you."

"Thank you, Alice," I said quietly, understanding that I had lost and won all at once. "But this is all really too much."

"Nonsense, Isabella," she replied with a wide smile. "Now, how are you fixed for shoes?"

Alice and I spent the night in Seattle. She called Charlie and somehow convinced him that it would be safer if we stayed, and proceeded to check us into one of the most lavish hotel rooms I've ever seen. I asked how she managed to get the reservation, since we're just a couple of teenagers... she shrugged me off and smiled.

We ate room service in bed, well, I did, anyway... Alice only picked at her food. We watched old movies on TV. We laughed about how ridiculous some of our classmates are. We swapped stories about others schools we'd been to. It was nice. It was... comfortable.

It wasn't until I was toweling off my hair after my shower that Alice blindsided me with the question.

"Have you had any dreams lately?"

It was innocent enough. Her gaze was impartial. Her tone non-judgmental. There was nothing wrong with what she was asking. But I ignored it anyway. I turned towards the television, pretending I hadn't heard. But then she asked again, and again, and again. And then I caved.

"No," I whispered finally, staring down at the brocade bedspread. And she shouldn't have heard me, because the TV was so loud and my voice was so quiet. But she was Alice, and she heard me anyway.

"Really?" she asked, tilting her head to the side and watching me watch nothing. "Why do you think that is?"

"I'm... I'm not sure," I stumbled, clearing my throat nervously and shooting a quick look in her direction. A look that said 'I'm uncomfortable.' A look that said 'drop the subject.' But she was Alice, and she persisted.

"Has that ever happened before?"

I ignored her again, so she switched off the TV. Silence filled the room, sucking out all the distractions like a vacuum, and suddenly it was just me and her and nothing else. And when she asked again, I answered.

"No. Not like this."

"Like what?"

"Just... nothingness," I whispered with a shake of my head. "It's like I'm floating in space. And I wake up so _rested_... but I don't dream. I don't see anything."

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" she asked curiously, shifting on her bed.

"The first night, I thought it was good... but now it just feels like something's wrong. Like there's a big piece of me missing, you know? Like the dreams were an integral part of my molecular structure, and taking them away changes my identity."

We sat for a moment, my words hanging in the air as I ran them through my head over and over again. Four nights without dreams. Four nights of nothing. I shook my head.

"I'm being silly," I muttered.

"I don't think you're being silly at all, Bella," Alice replied, gracefully rising from her bed and moving to sit on the floor in front of mine. And because Alice was always moving for me, I moved, too, settling myself next to her on the cream-colored carpet between the two beds.

The silence stretched forever, swirling around us with possibility, with doubt, with potential.

"Why don't you dream, Alice?" I asked her after an age, remembering that conversation that felt like years ago. But it was only days...

"I've never dreamed," she answered. "It's just something that's never happened to me."

"But... I don't understand. It's such a strange thing to tell me. And you promised you'd explain. You promised you'd explain everything, and then you didn't. Well, I want you to now. I'd like to understand..."

"You're pretty demanding when you get set on something, huh?" she asked with a laugh, shaking her head in mirth. "I never saw that about you. It's a nice surprise." She gave me a warm smile and gently bumped my shoulder with hers. The force of it sent me sprawling against the nightstand.

"Oops," she giggled. "Sorry, Bella."

She positioned herself in front of me, her back against her bed, my back against mine, and watched for a moment as I rubbed my now sore shoulder.

"There. Better?" she asked, placing her hand over the area that would surely sport a bruise in the morning. But her hands were cool, and they felt amazing... and the soreness went away.

"Yes," I replied, my eyes a little too wide. "How do you do that?"

"One question at a time, Isabella. First things first, I believe you asked me why I don't dream."

"Yes."

"Before we have this conversation, which, I can assure you, we _will_ have, I need you to understand a few things. And I need to extract some promises from you, the first of which is that you will not repeat what is said in this room to _anyone_ except members of my family. You may not discuss this with Charlie, you may not discuss this with anyone from school, and you _will_ not discuss this with Jacob Black. Understood?"

She gave me a serious look, and I nodded my head dumbly in understanding.

"Good. I also need you to promise to keep an open mind here. This talk was not meant to be this way, but Edward went and lied to 'protect' you, and now you have to do this with me instead of him. Then again, knowing how melodramatic my idiot brother is, it may work out better this way."

Alice's phone chirped from the nightstand and she rolled her eyes.

"Ignore it," she said, jerking her head towards the phone. "It's going to do that a lot."

"What do you-"

"_Anyway_," she continued, talking over me, "I'm going to tell you a number of things which will make you want to call the nearest hospital and have me locked away for my own safety. I can promise you that I am perfectly sane, as are you, and would encourage you to remember that you have prophetic dreams when you go to bed at night... we're all a little different, here."

I nodded, confused. And it was quiet for a minute... but then it wasn't...

"I don't dream because I don't sleep," Alice stated, rather matter-of-factly.

"You mean you have insomnia?" I asked.

"No. Not insomnia. I'm not physically capable of sleep. So I do not dream."

"I don't... I don't understand."

"Sure you do. Quit rationalizing it and take my words at face value. I do not sleep, Isabella. Ever."

"But, Alice, that just-"

"If you can't accept something as simple at _that_, then it's going to be a very long night," she huffed, crossing her arms.

"Alice, I'm sorry, but it's... Are you sick? Like, have you seen a doctor about this?"

"Isabella, I live with a doctor."

"Oh, yeah. Well, does he know?"

"Of course he knows. He doesn't sleep either."

"Wait..."

"None of my family sleeps."

_What the fuck?_

And then Alice started laughing. A lot. She was clutching her sides and rolling around on the floor. And then I realized that I must have said that out loud...

"Alice, it's not funny."

"Of course it is, Bella. You just don't realize it yet."

Her phone chirped on the night stand. And then it rang. But she didn't move to answer it.

"Christ, we're running out of time here, Bella Bear. I'm afraid I'm going to have to speed this up a bit."

I just stared.

"Isabella Swan, what do you know about vampires?"

I blinked at the black-haired girl seated in front of me. She didn't blink back.

"Vampires?" I asked, after a moment. "What do vampires have to do with anything?"

"Just tell me what you know about them," Alice replied, still unblinking.

"They're... I don't know... what does it matter? Quit changing the subject."

She still hadn't blinked. She was just sitting there, like a statue.

"How are you _doing_ that?" I demanded, getting annoyed.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Isabella. And I haven't changed the subject."

Her phone rang again. And again. And then mine did.

"Don't answer that," she told me, still unmoving.

And then the room phone rang. And kept ringing.

"Alice, what the _fuck_ is going on?" I asked, moving to answer the phone.

"What did I say, Bella? Leave it."

And she still hadn't moved...

"Alice, why are you-"

There was a knock at the door. Soft at first, and then growing increasingly louder. I struggled to my feet, thinking to answer it, but Alice yanked me back down before I could get very far.

"No, Bella."

"Alice, you're scaring me."

"Good. That's the only way you'll take this seriously. The phones don't matter. The door doesn't matter. This conversation is the only thing that matters. You're the one who wanted to talk, so we're going to. But you're going to focus, like you promised you would. And all the distractions are going to stop. _Now_."

She all but hissed the last bit, but the knocking suddenly ceased, as though related. Her eyes went unfocused for a moment, as though concentrating on something in the distance.

"Good," she muttered to herself, before pinning me with her attention once more. "Now, what were we talking about before? Oh, yes. Vampires."

"Vampires," I repeated dumbly. "Alright. What do I know about vampires? Well... there's the Dracula movies. And, um... there are those Anne Rice books..."

"Do you read those books?"

"No... My mom did. And she made me watch that movie with her once... _Interview with the Vampire_."

"Did you like it?" she asked.

I shrugged.

"It was entertaining. A little scary at parts."

"Is that all you know about them? Vampires?"

"Mark had a lot of books about Vlad the Impaler. He liked to tell me about him, but I think that was more so he could comfort me when I inevitably got scared..."

A faint, strange noise emanated from just outside our door, and I glanced back at it, startled. Alice rolled her eyes.

"What do you think about them?" Alice asked, ignoring the door for now.

"What's going on in the hall?" I asked, still focused on the faint noises. It sounded like... growling? That couldn't be right.

"Don't worry about that."

"Alice, I'm getting really tired of-"

"Isabella."

"Fine. What do I think of them? I don't think of them. Why the fuck would I think about vampires, Alice? Who thinks about vampires? Why are you asking me this. What's going on in the hall?"

My throat was sore. I was shouting. When had I started shouting?

"Would you be afraid if you met one?" Alice asked, ignoring my outburst.

"I don't know. I guess. I don't have a death wish."

"So you'd be afraid if you thought it was going to bite you."

"Of course. Who wouldn't?"

"What if you knew it wouldn't bite you?"

"What?"

"What if you knew it wouldn't bite you? Would you be afraid then?"

I looked at her like she was insane. She looked at me like I was overreacting. And she still hadn't blinked, dammit.

"I guess not."

"You guess not?"

"That's what I said," I groused, crossing my arms.

"What about destiny? What do you know about destiny?" she asked, seemingly changing the subject.

The noise in the hallway stopped.

"Alice, are you high?" I deadpanned.

"I can't get high. Answer the question and stop acting like a child."

She stared at me. I stared back. I'm not a child.

"You mean like my dreams? Is that what you're asking about?"

"You can talk about that if you like. Sure. What did you think when you first dreamed about Edward?" she asked expectantly.

And then the door opened.

"Alice, you have no right," a familiar voice snarled behind me. I didn't need to turn around to know who it was. I turned around anyway.

"I have every right. She's my sister."

"She's my _mate_," Edward all but yelled, tension rolling off him in waves. "You have no right."

"You screwed things up. I'm fixing them. _Leave_."

I turned back to Alice, startled at the ice in her voice, and was surprised to find her looking at me.

"What's going on?" I asked to no one in particular.

"Isabella," Edward turned to me with tenderness in his voice, his eyes ablaze, "it's rather late. Why don't you go sleep in my room, and I'll stay here and keep Alice company."

"Your room?" I repeated, confused. Edward had a room here? In this hotel? In Seattle? "Edward, why are you here?"

"That's a good question, Bella. Why _are_ you here, Edward?" Alice asked, crossing her arms.

"My room, Bella. It's right next door. Why don't you get some rest?"

"She's not going anywhere, Edward. We were almost there and you _ruined_ it."

"I ruined nothing," he snapped, fishing a plastic key card from his pocket and setting it on the bed behind me. "Go ahead. 2307."

"I'd rather know what's going on-" I began, only to be cut off, yet again.

"See, Edward? She's not the fragile little girl you keep making her out to be. She's not a child. She deserves to know."

"Know what?" I asked.

"Nothing, Isabella. Nothing needs to be known right now. It's been a _week_, Alice. One week. Must you shatter her innocence so quickly?" Edward pleaded, still towering above where we sat on the floor.

"Innocence," I muttered. "What the fuck is going on?"

"Sit down, Edward," Alice told him, gentler this time.

"I don't think-"

"Sit down," she repeated, motioning to the floor next to me. "This will happen. I've seen it. You've seen it. She would have seen it, too. Sit down."

They shared a long look. And I didn't know what to do.

"Alice?" I asked, worried and scared and frustrated and confused all at once.

"It's alright, Isabella," Edward said softly, settling himself next to me, placing a cool hand on my knee. "I'm sorry I made such a scene. It's alright."

I turned my head towards him, suddenly too aware of how bewildered my expression must have been, how disheveled I looked in my pajamas. But he smiled at me. A warm, sad smile. And I melted a little inside.

"It's alright," he repeated. And I believed him. "Go ahead, Alice."


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: This chapter has been completely re-written. I realize I posted CH 9 a few days ago, but the two are entirely different. I went in a different direction... in my opinion, a better one. Please go back and re-read at lease the last bit of Chapter Eight before continuing on if you read my earlier post. If not... enjoy.**

**Also, I'm sorely lacking in reviews on Twilighted. I'm getting an impressive amount of hits, so I know people are reading, but I can't seem to get people to review. If you're feeling charitable, please head over there and help me generate at least a little bit of buzz. I'm disgustingly dependent on reader feedback... without it, I feel like I'm shouting into the wind.**

**Chapter Nine**

"I don't remember anything of my childhood, Bella. Did you know that?" Alice asked me quietly her beautiful eyes filled with so much loss, so much pain, that it took my breath away.

I shook my head. I waited for her to continue. I did not have to wait long.

"It's... difficult... waking up one day and not knowing anything of yourself. Not knowing who you are, where you are... _why_ you are. It was painful at first, and terrifying. I was by myself, in the middle of nowhere, with no one to guide me, to explain..."

She trailed off, her gaze distant, clearly remembering. Beside me, Edward shuddered subtly, his hands curling into fists in his lap, his eyes squeezed shut against something.

"What had happened to you?" I prompted quietly.

"I had been changed. Reborn, I guess you can say. When I closed my eyes, I was one person, and when I opened them again, I had become someone else, someone with no memory, no past to guide her. Just a bracelet on my wrist... 'Alice Brandon', it said," and her eyes wandered down to her left hand, where a watch now sat. She toyed with the leather strap for a moment, lost in the past again. "Alice Brandon."

"How did you... what happened?" I asked softly, trying to reign in my curiosity for the sake of my friend. My friend who looked so broken at that moment, seated across from me on the floor of our hotel room. My friend who needed me for the first time since we'd met...

"I was lucky, Isabella," she replied, smiling softly, lifting her chin to look up at me. "I woke up by myself, but I wasn't alone."

Puzzled, I dropped her gaze after a moment, looking to Edward, wondering where this was going. Because Edward and Alice were siblings. Twins, if I recalled that explanation from the lunchroom correctly. And if something had happened to Alice, where had Edward been? Had he been hurt, too? Had they been abandoned in some way?

"I'm afraid I don't understand," I admitted quietly, finally looking back to the source of my confusion.

"It's simple, Bella. I was by myself, but not alone. In fact, I can safely say that, since that day, I've never been alone. Not once."

And I guess my frustration and confusion was showing on my face, because, with a tinkling laugh, Alice reached across the space between us and took my hand between her two smaller ones.

"It was you, Isabella. I was never alone because I had you."

"I don't understand," I repeated, shaking my head. "We've only just met."

"I know it seems that way to you, Isabella, but I've known you much longer. Since the day I opened my eyes, in fact. Since the first time I truly saw the world."

"Alice, quit being obtuse," Edward interjected, resting a hand on my shoulder. "She doesn't understand what you mean."

"Is that right, Isabella? You don't understand?"

I shook my head, cringing at how childish the gesture felt.

"I'm sorry," she murmured with a small smile. "I just assumed... how do I explain this properly? I never saw this part..."

I waited again as she drifted off for a moment, shifting my legs slightly on the floor and wincing when my spine made an unappealing popping sound, ringing out unnaturally loudly through the silence of the room.

"Let's get you off this floor," Edward said to me with a smirk, rising gracefully to his feet and drawing my hands away from Alice's absent-minded grip, bringing me up with him. He turned towards the bed once he ensured I was settled on my feet, and quickly arranged pillows against the headboard, guiding me backwards across the bedspread until I was resting comfortably at the head.

"There now," he almost whispered, gently pushing a lock of hair away from my face. "Isn't that better?"

The look in his eyes was mesmerizing, as was his proximity to me, his arms positioned on either side of my torso, supporting his weight as he leaned over me and rendering me speechless as I took in the ropey muscles of his forearms, the silk over marble of his skin.

"Bella."

I thought I heard something but I was too lost to be certain... swimming in the glowing amber of his irises, reveling in the cool freshness of his breath as it washed over me...

"_Bella_."

And there it was again, but what did it matter when his copper hair was close enough to touch, when his sweater clung to his chest in such delicious ways...

"Bella!"

Oh.

Alice.

"Edward, get off of her. There'll be plenty of time for that later," Alice harped, her tone bossy but her eyes belying her mirth.

Unfortunately, her directive seemed to work. Edward offered me an apologetic smile before drawing away from me, moving to sit at the end of my bed. Unwilling to have him so far away, I scrambled to move myself more upright, resting my back fully on the mountain of pillows he had created for me and drawing my legs towards my chest, offering him the space right next to me.

"Now, now, Isabella, I'm not going anywhere," he admonished, settling into my proffered seat and raking a long-fingered hand through his hair. "Not unless you want me to."

His expression changed with the last statement, spoken so quietly that I was certain he had not meant for me to hear it. But I did.

"Now, then, if we could get back to the matter at hand, Isabella," Alice prompted, laughing. I looked over to find that she had risen from her spot on the floor as well, and was now perched on the side of her bed, hands folded primly in her lap.

"Sorry," I muttered, embarrassment flooding my face as I realized how singularly focused I had been on her brother just moments before.

"No you're not," she teased, winking at me before continuing. "Anyway, I think the best way for you to understand how I saw you is for you to tell me how you saw Edward."

"You mean, like... in school?" I asked, confused for the millionth time that night.

"I mean in Phoenix."

"Oh."

"I know you told me about it once, but it was just in passing... and I'd like it if you could really focus on it this time. Try to remember what you felt just as much as what you saw."

Edward tensed, causing the bed to shift slightly, but I tried not to notice it. This was hard enough without thinking about his rather conspicuous presence.

"I don't... I never said it was him," I said after an age.

"You didn't have to," was her reply, before the room was silent once more, expectation thick in the air.

"It was... sunny. And warm. And the light was coming through the trees, filtering down through the branches... it was so beautiful," I breathed out, suddenly remembering, feeling as though I were there again. "And all around me, there was grass and flowers and trees and light and... it was the most perfect place I'd ever seen."

I was transported, feeling the tall grass as it tickled my arms, inhaling the scent of the wildflowers and the damp earth of the forest, watching mesmerized as shafts of sunlight tore through the surrounding canopy, breaking up the lush green like light through a kaleidoscope. It was amazing.

"And then I saw him... Edward. But I didn't know him then. Not his name, anyway. But his face, his voice... they were like coming home. And he was so beautiful, so perfect, so attuned with everything around him... he made it all right. And he was talking to me... about his family, I think. I can't remember his words. Just his voice. God, his voice," I shuddered, remembering how it had effected me the first time, how it still effected me.

"How did it feel? Your dream?" Alice asked, bringing me back to the hotel room and the conversation. Back to Edward and his rather stiff posture at my side.

"I don't... I don't know how to describe it. I don't have words."

"Try," Edward requested quietly, looking up at me with imploring eyes. "Please try."

All I could do was nod. And sink back into my memories.

"It felt like I had been waiting for it," I said after an age, struggling to find the right way to explain it. "Like a culmination of everything that had happened in my life up till that point... like... like I had been put on this earth to dream about him. To know him."

And while externally, I don't think my expression changed, internally, I was everywhere at once... because I had said it right. I had inadvertently found an apt label for what I had been feeling since that night back in Phoenix, since that day at school when I had first laid eyes on him...

I had been waiting for it, for him. Since birth.

And that made me his.

It was a heady and terrifying realization.

One I needed some time with.

And some space...

"I'd like to go to bed now," I whispered, glancing up at Alice, avoiding Edward's eyes.

"It's late," she agreed, rising from her bed and tugging me out of my own. "Why don't you sleep in Edward's room? He and I can share this room tonight."

"Sure," I agreed, too distracted to question her suggestion.

She led me out of the room and into the hall, moving one door down before stopping and unlocking the door, pressing the keycard into the palm of my hand and walking me inside.

Distractedly, I glanced around, noting that the two rooms were nearly identical, but for the large, king sized bed that took up the space where our two smaller queens were next door.

"This is nice," I muttered, sinking down onto the mattress and waiting for Alice to tell me whatever it was she had gotten me alone to say.

"It is," she agreed quietly, studying my face. "Will you be alright here?"

"Sure," I responded with a shrug. "It's not like I've never been in a hotel before."

"True," she smiled wryly before turning on her heel and moving back towards the door.

"Alice," I called, just as her fingers gripped the handle. "How did I help you? When you woke up? You never did explain."

"Oh, but I didn't have to," she said with a soft smile, turning to face me again. "You explained it for me."

"At the risk of sounding like a broken record here, I don't understand."

"Think of over everything I've told you, Bella. Every admittedly tiny bit of information I've shared. And know that, in the way that you saw Edward before you met him... in the way that you saw him and knew that he was meant to be a part of you... that is how we first came to be friends, Bella. How we first met."

"Alice," I began, but she interrupted me.

"It wasn't romantic, Isabella, if that's what you're thinking. Get your mind out of the gutter."

I dropped her gaze and began a thorough examination of the carpet, trying to hide my blush behind my hair.

"It was just... I saw you. I knew that I would have you in my life, that I would find you," she explained, haltingly for someone who was usually so loquacious. "You weren't the only one that I saw. Later, I saw my Jasper. Later, I saw my family... but you were the first. For a while, you were all that I had."

She walked back towards the bed and wrapped her arms around my shoulders, drawing me into her for a rather tight hug.

"You saved me from myself, from the monster I could have been... and I will always be grateful for that, Isabella Swan. I will always be grateful."

And, after placing a soft, cool kiss on my forehead, she was gone, dancing from the room in typical Alice fashion, leaving only the click of the lock in her wake.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: As I am ever so prone to do, I have deleted the old Chapters 10 and 11. This is the new and vastly improved Chapter 10. If you're getting tired of me doing this, you may want to switch to reading me on Twilighted. I'm much less impulsive with my posts, and everything over there is finished product. If you're sticking with me over here, well... thanks. :)**

**Big thanks to my fabulous new beta IssaBissa. I e-mailed her about this chapter waaay too many times, and she never once told me to fuck off. So thanks. :)**

**Chapter Ten**

I dreamed of a darkened room I used to know very well. The walls were painted a soft purple, a color I had carefully selected after weeks of deliberation. The floors were carpeted in a soft, pristine cream, but I knew there was a fist-sized, maroon stain near one of the baseboard from the day my mother had spilled her glass of merlot. All of my things were gone. Everything was gone. A pile of drop cloths and a lone paint can pushed into a corner led me to believe that my old room was to be painted. Still, it was just a room. Until I saw the window being pushed up and open from the outside. Until I saw the young man crawl in... much like I remembered him, and yet entirely not the same.

Mark came in through my window and sat on the ledge, looking around the room, tears in his eyes. I watched him rise, walking the perimeter of the floor, running his fingers over the walls, stopping in the corner where my bed had been. A look of intense loss crossed his face. And then rage. He brought his hands to his face. He made a fist. He punched the wall. He whispered my name. And I woke up.

My phone was in the next room, the room Alice and Edward now shared. But Alice had told me that she never sleeps. And I was worried.

"Bella? What're you doing up?" Alice asked as she opened the door. The lights were still on in the room behind her. Everything was as I had left it. I hadn't disturbed them. At least, I didn't _think_ I had.

"I need my phone," I said by way of explanation. "Can you grab it?"

"Where is it? Oh, what am I saying? Get in here and get it yourself, silly."

I moved towards my purse, wondering if I should just bring it back to the room with me, when Edward's form appeared in my peripheral vision.

"Did you have another dream?" he asked, worry etched on his face.

"Yes," was my simple reply, unwilling to go into any further detail. Mark was none of their business. I wasn't about to talk about him behind his back... especially when it looked as though he was in pain because of me. I pulled my phone from my bag, flipping it open and scrolling to Mark's number. "What do you do at night if you don't sleep?"

"We have hobbies," Edward responded vaguely.

"Some more obsessive than others," Alice added, smirking.

I shook my head, confused, but let it slide. Quickly, I typed out a text message.

_Saw something today that made me think of you. How are you doing?_

I hit send and, a little too aware of Edward's not so subtle attempts to read what I had typed over my shoulder, quickly closed the phone again.

"What was your dream about?" Alice asked me curiously.

"Just a friend."

"Must have been serious to make you want to contact them so quickly," Edward said.

"Not really. It just made me think of him, that's all."

Edward recoiled a bit at the male pronoun. So he didn't like my thinking about guys? Interesting...

"Anyway, it's over. I can leave you guys alone, if you like."

"No, stay for a bit. If you're not too tired, that is," Alice said eagerly. "We never did get to finish our discussion."

I nodded my consent, crossing the room to sit in a chair by the window. Alice followed my path, but took the floor in front of me once more rather than settling herself in the chair.

"Why are you always sitting on the ground?" I asked, curious.

"I break furniture."

"Oh."

That was odd.

"So, just to recap what you said to me before, to make sure I got it right... you have visions, too?" I asked her.

"Yes," she confirmed, "but not in the same way as you. Nor are they of the same nature, I don't think. I wish there was some way to test that..."

"What do you mean 'not of the same nature?'"

"I mean that what _I_ see seems to be based on decisions. What _you_ see seems to be based on... I suppose 'destiny' is an apt word. I believe you've used it before."

"I still don't understand," I lamented.

"Well, my visions are fluid. For instance, I've seen _this_ conversation," she gestured between the two of us, "at least four times. I've seen you and _Edward_ talking about this six times. And I've seen you working things out by yourself twice. Each vision was based on each party's thoughts and feelings at the time that I had the vision. Sometimes things happen exactly as I see them. Sometimes things take a complete 180. It depends on too many factors."

"So... what you're saying is that every mood swing and errant thought affects your perception of the future?" I asked. That had to be miserable.

"In a way, yes, but it's not at frequent as you're probably thinking."

"Do you see _everyone_? Or is it just people in your life?"

"I can focus on people once I know them. When I was born, I tried constantly to focus on you, to see you again, but it was impossible. Years later, when _you_ were born, you started popping up. I got random snippets of your future, but nothing that I understood... and it took me a while to even realize what I was seeing. I mean, you looked so different..."

"Years later when I was born? When _I_ was born? Years later? What in the hell does that mean?" I asked, completely lost.

Alice froze. Edward froze. I'm pretty sure time did, too.

I thought back to Edward's bedroom after the accident. To Alice exuding power and authority.

"Alice, just how old are you?"

"It's hard to say."

"And why is that?"

"Because she didn't know herself when she woke up," Edward responded quietly in her stead. "And she didn't have anyone to tell her."

"But, surely you-"

"I was not there. None of us were."

"But you're siblings. You told me so," I insisted.

"We are. And we will always be."

"I don't understand."

"I'm old, Bella. Let us leave it at that," Alice said finally, giving her brother -well, Edward- a look when he moved to say something again.

"Old. Well, that's informative," I snarked.

"I was here before you were born. Before your mother. Before your mother's mother. And hers before her. Is that better?"

I had to fight back the hysterical laughter. I suddenly felt dangerously close to a manic break.

"Sure," I answered weakly. "You were saying about your visions?"

"Right. Well, before you were born, I couldn't see you in any way. Then, about seventeen years ago, I started seeing you again. When I reached, you were never there, but when I wasn't thinking about it, you would pop up from time to time. Now that I know you personally, I can see you when I think about it. You have no idea how comforting it is after so many years," she added, giving me a smile.

"And it's not... you don't..."

"I try not to invade your privacy, Bella," Alice assured me. "And if you feel like I am, I can back off a bit. It's just... _without_ the visions, I feel blind. When I first met up with the Cullens, it made some of them uncomfortable and I... I held myself back, I guess you can say... but it was rather uncomfortable. It felt like I was denying a part of myself. Like I wasn't whole."

"I understand," I said honestly. "These past four days alone have been hell without my dreams at night. I never thought I would miss them when they were gone, but I did."

"But you're having them again, right?" Alice asked.

"Yes," I confirmed. "It was brief, but it happened."

"Excellent," Alice said with some enthusiasm.

"Most definitely," I agreed, nodding. "I just wish I knew why they stopped," I added through a yawn.

"I have some theories about that, but now's not the time. Let's get you back to bed."

And so, for the second time that night, I was marched back to the other room, tucked into bed with a hug and a kiss, and left alone in the dark.

When I drifted off again, I dreamed about Edward and Alice in the next room. Edward's ear was pressed against the wall behind the beds, his palms flat against the expensive wallpaper. Alice was talking on a cell phone, making fun of her brother's behavior to whoever was listening. After a few minutes, she hung up, approaching her brother and placing herself in his line of sight.

"You can't do this all night, Edward. She's fine. Let her sleep."

"I _am_ letting her sleep."

"You know what I meant," Alice countered, placing an affectionate hand on his shoulder. "She's fine," she repeated.

Edward heaved a sigh and obligingly moved a few inches from the wall, his posture straightening.

"I'm worried," he said, reaching a hand out to trace over the flowers of the wallpaper. "With all that was said, I'm still worried. She doesn't know everything. She doesn't understand."

"She will," Alice assured him, drawing his hand from the wall. "She will know everything there is to know, and she will still accept us."

"But your visions keep changing. You can't be sure. She could..."

"She will know and she will accept us."

They stared at each other for an age before Edward resumed his perch by the wall.

Alice laughed.

"I just like to know she's ok," he said softly, stroking the wall. "She has to be ok."

I woke up, reaching blindly for the pad of paper I had spied on the nightstand. I wrote it all down, every last word, everything I could remember, the vision replaying in my mind like a television re-run. And when it was finished, I turned towards the wall behind me, the wall on the other side of which, if my dream was any indication, Edward was currently standing, keeping guard. I reached out a hand, pressing it to the space above the headboard, caressing it with my fingertips.

"Goodnight, Edward," I whispered, leaning forward to press a kiss the space where my hand had been. And as I settled back into the overly large bed, burrowing my head into the warm softness of the expensive pillows, somewhere in the back of my mind, I heard Edward bid me goodnight as well.

I woke up to sunlight streaming through the sheer curtains over the window and the rather irresistible smell of bacon and eggs wafting towards me from an ornately decorated cart next to my bed. Sitting up, I glanced around, squinting against the bright light and trying to find my bearings. A hotel room. _Edward's_ hotel room. I smiled.

So much had happened last night. Dreams aside, there was a lot to sift through, a lot to figure out...

I crawled out of the enormous bed, noting with a smile the outfit that had been carefully laid out at the foot of it. Alice. Guess I knew where my breakfast came from, too.

I padded into the bathroom, taking care of my more pressing needs before risking a glance into the mirror and squeaking in horror at the image I was presented with. The tangle that was my hair surpassed even bird's nest levels, with long, pointy bits of it somehow managing to stick out in all directions. My face looked like it had wrestled a pillow and lost. Shuddering, I practically leapt into the glassed-in shower behind me.

"Isabella!"

Alice's voice rang out through the marble bathroom, startling me.

"Alice! What the hell are you doing in here?" I called over the noise of the shower, popping my head out of the glass door and looking around. So far, the room was Alice free. She must have been on the other side of the door.

"Back up, Bella. I'm coming in," she trilled, twirling into the room and pushing an armful of products at me, laughing at my modest attempts to cover myself.

"Alice, I'm naked!" I all but shrieked.

"Calm down, Bella Bear. You don't have anything that I don't," she persisted, all but forcing the various bottles into my hands. "The purple one is shampoo. Massage it in and let it sit for five minutes before you rinse it out, alright?"

"I know how to shampoo my hair," I groused to myself, even as I poured a generous glob into my hand and began working it into my scalp. The hot shower began filling with the delicate smell of lavender and vanilla, and I found myself inhaling it greedily, smiling against my will. "What is this stuff?"

"Your new shampoo," Alice answered simply. "No more of that strawberry crap you've been ruining your hair with. And don't you _dare_ rinse until five minutes is up, Bella. Don't think I can't see you in there."

"Christ, Alice, it's just shampoo."

"It's a regimen, Bella. Deal with it," she replied firmly, smiling smugly at me through the condensation-filled glass door. "Why don't you shave your legs while you're waiting? It's like a national park down there."

"Alice!"

Fifteen minutes and a pair of very smooth legs later found me perched on the side of the monster bed, nibbling on my still-warm breakfast as a too-perky Alice ran a brush through my hair.

"I can do that myself, you know," I said through a mouthful of bacon.

"You do it wrong," was all she said, continuing to guide the finely bristled brush through my tresses. I can't lie... it felt really, really good. "Did you give any thought to what we talked about last night?"

I froze, my forkful of scrambled eggs stilling somewhere between the plate and my mouth.

"I haven't really gotten a chance... I mean... it was a long night, and-"

"Of course it was, Isabella. No worries."

"What's on the agenda for today?" I asked a little too brightly, interested in changing the subject.

"We're going home, of course," Alice replied, smoothing a hand over my now untangled hair. "Wait here. I'm going to get a blow-dryer."

Shrugging, I continued to plow through my breakfast, trying not to think too hard about the heavy conversation that I was now avoiding.

"What's Edward up to?" I called, trying to be nonchalant. From her laugh, I'm guessing I failed.

"Brooding," was her enigmatic reply, and then conversation was impossible over the blaring of the hair dryer.

In the end, it took me almost an hour to get dressed. My hair took an eternity, as she first dried it poker straight and then took a curling iron to the ends. My face took even longer, as I was presented with product after product to wash with, to tone, to moisturize... makeup was applied methodically and in layers, with Alice's running commentary explaining to me that this was the only way to get it to stay put in the damp Washington weather.

Dressing was an entirely different can of worms, as we argued for over ten minutes about the undergarments that I had never authorized purchase of. Ridiculous things made of satins and silks and lace, contorted into styles I'd never even imagined, in every color of the rainbow. It wasn't until she presented me with a wad of navy blue silk, explaining to me that it was Edward's favorite color, that I became too embarrassed to continue. Her responding smirk told me all that I needed to know. I had inadvertently provided her with enough ammo to win every clothing argument with me from here on out. If Edward liked it, well...

And so La Perla lingerie found its way onto my body, followed by black ribbed tights and soft black suede boots. A grey cashmere, cowl-necked sweater dress settled itself over my frame, hugging me in an entirely too satisfying way. My sleeves were pushed up and a white ceramic watch was strapped to my wrist. Pewter drop earrings were fastened to my ears. Gloss was ghosted over my lips. And a cold kiss was placed on my cheek.

"All set," Alice said to me softly, gently pushing me towards the closet mirror. Where I could do nothing but stare.

The girl I had so carefully examined last Tuesday morning was gone, replaced by an elegant, subtly beautiful woman.

"Alice, are you ready yet? We need to get-"

My head shot up from the mirror, and I suddenly found myself trapped in a pair of honeyed eyes.

"Isabella," Edward breathed, bracing a hand on the doorway as though it was the only thing keeping him vertical. "Isabella, there are no words..."

We stared at each other, a small corner of my mind marking Alice as she floated around the room, packing things into the black overnight bag on the chair. Dimly, I realized the bag had held my things rather than Edward's. Dimly, I wondered why. The rest of me, though, from the soles of my feet to the tips of my fingers, the part of me still firmly in Edward's thrall, couldn't care less.

He took a slow step towards me, fingers clenching and unclenching at his sides, and then another. His gait was deliberate, and he approached me as one might approach a small animal. In that moment, I suppose the metaphor was apt. He was the predator, and I was his prey. The arrangement thrilled me to no end.

Pale, perfect fingers made their way to my cheek, ghosting over my skin and leaving cool fire in their wake. They traveled up into my hairline, threading through the strands and following them down to the small of my back, where the hand suddenly settled, gripping the back of my dress, drawing me irresistibly closer.

"I have never seen anything so beautiful in all my life," Edward whispered, his cool breath fanning over the shell of my ear and sending sparks through my body. "You are stunning, Isabella."

"I-it was Alice," I demurred with a stutter, wholly distracted by the glorious sensation of Edward touching me so deliberately, the joy of Edward looking at me in such a singular way.

"It was you," he insisted, his cool lips touching my cheekbone for the briefest of instants as they traveled once again to my ear. "It has always been you."

A whimper escaped my lips at the thrill of his proximity, and I found myself stepping closer to him, leaning into his chest, bringing my lips up to the delicious-looking juncture of his neck and shoulder...

"All set," Alice announced cheerily behind us, bringing me crashing down to earth. "We need to get going. Checkout ends in ten minutes."

I jumped back from Edward as though burned, suddenly too aware of how close I had come to kissing him, how close I had come to begging him to kiss me.

"Isabella," Edward whispered in that tone, that tone that sent lightning down my spine, but it was too late and the bubble had burst. And there were so many things left unresolved. So many aspects of his life that I did not understand. So many aspects of _him_ that I did not understand.

It occurred to me that, while I was getting to now Alice better, I really didn't now Edward at all.

"Alice is right. We should get going. Charlie will worry," I said robotically, avoiding his gaze.

"Well, then... let's go, kids," Alice commanded cheerfully, her smile a little too forced and her eyes a little too apologetic. She crossed in front of us, slinging the black bag over her shoulder, opening the door, and walking out into the hall. Stepping around Edward without so much as a glance in his direction, I followed her.

**A/N: Aaaand... review.**


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven**

Alice hired a limo for our trip back to Forks. It was... ridiculous. And I told her so.

"Honestly, Bella, this is better. This way we can talk on the way home," she insisted, waving me off.

"We talked on the way here."

"That was different. Besides, now Edward's coming home with us, too. This will be much more comfortable."

"But what about your car? What about Edward's car?"

All I got was a shake of her head in response, another wave of her hand as she donned a pair of oversized sunglasses. The matter was closed. Alice had spoken.

I climbed into the ridiculous car, curling up in a far corner while Edward and Alice sat next to each other on the side bench. The upholstery was black and leather and expensive-feeling. The wood paneled trim on running along the windows and fixtures looked like legitimate wood rather than that decal garbage they apply to the inside of cars. There were flat screen televisions recessed into every available surface. There was no bar, no tacky lighting along the ceiling or under the seats, no disco ball or neon piping... this was nothing like the limo my mother had ridden in for her bachelorette party. The one that she had allowed me to peek into before it pulled away from the curb. This was nice. Classy. Still ridiculous, though.

I was idly watching the city roll by through the heavily tinted glass when a rather pronounced gasp to the left of my seat caught my attention.

"Alice?" I asked, concerned. Her posture was rigid, her mouth a tight line across her face.

Edward grimaced next to her, his formerly placid expression dissolving into one of... frustration?

I watched as Alice reached a hand out, wrapping her tiny fingers around his wrist.

My phone rang and, still concentrating on the odd behavior of my riding companions, I answered it, assuming it was Charlie.

"Hello?"

"Bella!" Mark yelled in excitement, loud enough for me to pull the phone from my ear. "How are you? We haven't spoken in forever!"

I remembered my dream the night before. I remembered my text. Edward's fingers looked like they were about to gouge holes in the denim covering his legs. Alice took both of his hands in her own.

"Sorry about that, Mark... it's just been so hectic here... I'm good. How are you? How's Phoenix?" I asked, trying not to notice the way Edward's eyes had snapped to mine when I said Mark's name.

"Not the same without you," he lamented, sounding a bit too wistful for my comfort. "Nothing's the same anymore. I miss you so much, Bella..."

I thought about what I had seen. Him climbing through my old window. Him beating his fists against the wall. I shuddered. Edward tensed further.

"I miss you, too, Mark," I lied, toying with a piece of my hair. "Tell me about-"

"When are you going to come home, Bella? Everyone's asking about you. Jennifer asked me every day this week if we had spoken, and Carly keeps bringing you up at lunch, and I just miss you so much..."

"I live here now," I replied, my voice quiet. I wanted desperately to ask him about breaking into my house, but I didn't know if it had happened yet...

"I know, but you could visit. We could spend the weekend together, just you and me. I could get us that hotel room again..."

Edward's hands moved into his hair, fisting the copper strands as though trying to rip them out. What was going on here?

"Mark, I don't think that's appropriate. I mean, I just got here, and-"

"But I miss you, Bella. The way you smile..."

Alice was now completely wrapped around her brother, as though restraining him from something. It was odd, seeing such a tiny person acting as though they could physically influence a larger one. Even odder because I couldn't for the life of me understand what was going on between the two of them.

"Mark, please," I whispered, turning my body into the window, unable to juggle Edward's behavior and my increasingly uncomfortable phone call any longer. "You know I'll always care about you, but we're not like that anymore..."

"I don't see why, Bella. I did _everything_ for you. I was there for you when Renee wasn't. I was your life! And you can just leave it all behind, leave me? After all I've done-"

"That's not fair," I said brokenly, fighting back tears.

"No, it's not. It's not fair at all. It's not fair that I took care of you for so long, only to have you push me away like I was nothing. I can't believe you, Bella. I can't believe how selfish you are."

"Mark-"

"Is there someone else? Did you meet someone up there? Did you?" his tone had turned ugly, his voice nearly unrecognizable.

"I don't-"

"You did, didn't you? You met someone already. I can't believe you, Bella. Such a slut-"

"Mark!" I gasped, sobbing openly now. Who was this boy? What had he become? 

"Does he know I was your first? That I got in there before him? That I broke you in?"

"Mark, please-"

"Please what, Bella? This is your fault. You're the one who left. You're the one who opened your legs for another guy. Well he's welcome to you, whoever he is. You were always such a shitty lay. I almost feel sorry for him-"

"That's enough," Edward roared, suddenly beside me and wrenching the phone from my hands. "Now you listen to me, you unbelievable piece of garbage. Isabella Swan is no longer a part of your life. Period. You will not contact her, you will not speak about her, you will not so much as _think_ about her or, so help me god, you will be _begging_ for death by the time I'm through with you. Understood?"

Without waiting for a response, Edward ripped the phone from his ear, crushing it in his fist and winding up to throw it against the window before Alice's hand on his arm stopped him.

"You don't want to do that," she said quietly, her eyes on me rather than her brother.

He took a deep breath, dropping the mass of twisted plastic and wires to the floor before taking his head in his hands, gripping his hair again.

"You will never talk to that boy again," he said, a definite edge to his voice.

"He's not normally like that," I whispered into the car by way of explanation, humiliated that the first boy I had ever loved had spoken to me like that. Humiliated that Edward and Alice had heard every word. "He's never spoken to me like that before."

"You will never talk to him again," Edward repeated, raising his head to look me dead in the eye.

And the sobs came back full force, ripping their way through my body, leaving me gulping for air. A pair of cold arms wrapped themselves around me and still I cried, not understanding how anyone could say such things to me, let alone Mark, the person I had trusted above all others.

A velvety voice was whispering soothing things in my ear, running fingers through my hair, rubbing circles on my back. Strong arms held me to a strong chest, guiding my head into the crook of a pale neck and rocking me like a child.

"I don't know what happened," I bit out after an age, the tears receding.

"I'm sorry it you feel I overreacted," was Edward's reply, his chest rumbling beneath my cheek as he spoke. "I cannot abide anyone speaking to you in that manner."

"I don't understand..."

"You are none of the things that boy accused you of being, Isabella. Do you understand? You are goodness and light and so beautiful that it takes my breath away. You are kind and giving and gentle and the most amazing person I have ever known."

He lifted my chin with a finger, guiding my face up until I could comfortably meet his eyes.

"You are none of the things that boy said, Isabella," he repeated softly.

"You don't have to-" I began, but he cut me off with a cool finger against my lips.

"I do."

I ducked my head, tucking it into the crook of his neck again and smiling into the soft fabric of his sweater.

"You killed my phone," I blurted suddenly, once my mind had cleared a bit.

"I'll by you a new one," he said simply, shifting me impossibly closer to him. I sighed happily.

"Good idea," Alice agreed, reaching for the intercom button to speak with the driver. "We need to make a stop."

The driver found us a mall on the outskirts of Seattle, and the moment we stepped out of the car, Alice insisted on feeding me.

"It's a long drive back to Forks, Bella Bear," she reasoned, "and we won't have time to stop again."

The three of us travelled to the food court as a group, but Edward broke away the moment we arrived, explaining that he wasn't hungry.

"I'll go get the paperwork started on your phone," he suggested, already walking away from us. "That way all the time consuming stuff will be out of the way by the time you're finished."

I opened my mouth to protest, but he was already gone, moving smoothly through the crowd and out of sight. I wanted to choose my own phone, damn it. My flip phone had been ancient, and I was rather excited about the opportunity to choose a new one.

Still, he was gone already and there was nothing I could do about it.

Alice and I got into a shouting match about who had the right to pay for my lunch. It wasn't until I reminded her of exactly how much money she had spent on me over the weekend, and how gracefully I had accepted it in the end, that she allowed me to fork over the $9.31 for my orange chicken and brown rice.

"Aren't you hungry?" I asked Alice, halfway through my plate and only just noticing that she hadn't purchased anything to eat.

"I don't really eat this stuff," she explained, waving her hand in the general direction of the food stalls.

"Mall food?"

"Sure."

"What about at school?" I continued, suddenly remembering one of the many little quirks all the Cullens seemed to share.

"How do you mean?"

"Well, you don't really eat at school, either. And you didn't eat anything yesterday... what do you eat, Alice?"

"This is... another one of those things, Bella," she said quietly, looking me in the eye.

"Something we'll talk about later?" I asked, leaning forward.

"Exactly."

"Alright," I shrugged after a moment. She'd already told me that she was... older than she looked. And that she had visions of the future. And that she never slept. How much more could there possibly be?

"Let's go find Edward," she suggested once I finished with my lunch. "He should be about finished by now."

"You got me an iPhone?" I asked for the tenth time, back in the car on the way back to Forks.

"It was the most prudent option," Edward replied dismissively.

"I don't have AT&T," I argued, stunned.

"You do now," was his only response.

"What the fu-"

"Bella," Alice rushed, moving to sit next to me in the car, "Edward and I decided to add you to our family plan. It made the most sense."

"Made the most sense? How does that make the most sense? You can't pay for my cell phone!"

"I can, and I did," Edward said with a sniff, staring out the window.

"Well you can take it back."

"No."

"Edward."

"No."

"Edward!"

"No! No matter how many times you repeat my name, I will not take it back, Isabella! It was a gift. I bought you a gift. Now be gracious and accept it."

"But to add me to your plan-"

"Is only fair," he finished for me stiffly. "A gift isn't a gift if the recipient must pay to use it."

"But an iPhone-"

"Is both utilitarian and reliable. My entire family has them. It is the best phone on the market. You deserve only the best."

"But-"

"That's the end, Isabella. Say 'thank you' and move on."

I glared at him, crossing my arms like a child, but he was unmovable.

"Thank you," I snarked, still furious. My prepaid plan had been a major drain on my savings account, but it had been mine, damn it.

"You're welcome."

Alice commandeered my new phone almost immediately, programming her number, as well as those of the rest of her family, into my contacts and downloading an obscene number of apps, insisting that I would never be able to exist without them.

"Where are the rest of the bags?" she asked her brother after apparently exhausting her app options.

"Trunk," he grunted, pulling a pair of earbuds from his pocket and plugging them into his own phone. "I'm taking a nap."

He stretched his legs out in front of him, tilting his head back onto the seat and closing his eyes. He looked graceful and casual and... delicious.

"What rest of the bags?" I asked, forcing myself to stop staring at the boy -man- in front of me.

"Just some extra things we decided to pick up," Alice replied dismissively, waving her hand.

Again with the hand! I was ready to chop the damn thing off.

"Extra things for who?" I demanded, not liking the way she wouldn't meet my eyes.

"You," Edward answered, eyes still closed.

"Me? What for?"

"School and things. Don't worry about it," Alice insisted, trying to distract me by showing me another feature on my phone.

"School? What did you get me for school?" I persisted, undeterred.

"You needed a computer," Edward said calmly.

"What does that have to do with anything?" I asked, trying not to raise my voice. "How did you know that?"

"You did need a computer, Bella," Alice repeated, her eyes wide and pleading.

"What do you mean 'did'? What did you do?"

I looked from Alice to Edward and back again. And then I started to hyperventilate.

"_What did you do_?" I gasped, feeling like the car was getting smaller and smaller around me.

"Isabella? Isabella, you need to breathe."

Edward was in front of me in an instant, his hands on my shoulders, gently guiding my head between my knees.

"What did you do?" I panted, focused.

"I bought you a present," Edward said, gathering my hair into a ponytail and holding it away from my face.

"I don't want any more presents," I bit out, unable to catch my breath.

"Alice got to take care of you all weekend. I wanted to get you something special. I'm sorry, Isabella. Please calm down. I didn't know it would upset you. Please, please calm down."

He began rubbing my back in long strokes. I focused on his hand, applying cool, gentle pressure from the base of my spine to the nape of my neck and back down again.

"That's it, baby. Just breathe," he whispered soothingly. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I preened at the term of endearment falling so easily from his lips.

When I could finally breathe again, Edward seated himself next to me, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and drawing me into his side.

"Alright?" he asked, studying my face.

"I'm not used to this," I said quietly, hoping he would understand. "All this... everything. It's too much, Edward. I'm sorry, but it's too much."

"You don't even know what I got you," he reminded me, a small smile playing on his beautiful lips.

"You got me a phone," I replied. "A very expensive phone, and a plan to go with it. That alone is too much."

"The phone was more from my family than it was from me. And nothing could ever be too much for you, Isabella. I could have bought you everything in that mall and it would never be enough for me."

"You don't... please try to understand. I don't have what you have. I didn't grow up the way you grew up. I'll never be able to repay you-"

"Your existence is payment enough, Isabella. You owe me nothing."

I was uncomfortable. His eyes were too serious, his words too affecting.

"Please, just stop," I said quietly, looking away from him. From the corner of my eye, I saw his head drop dejectedly. He slowly removed his arm from my shoulders and put space between us on the seat. I immediately felt bereft at the loss of physical contact, but was too muddled to do anything about it.

The silence in the car was crushing, the dim hum of the road beneath us the only reprieve. In my mind, I replayed every interaction with Edward, and then with Alice. I studied every smile, every gesture, every word. I went back over the entire week, marveling at how thoroughly my life could change in such a short amount of time.

When the car breached the town limits of Forks, I spoke again.

"My mother moved me around a lot. You probably knew that, but I'm telling you anyway. Every time I would start to make friends, start to get comfortable, she'd get bored or hurt and we'd be gone. I've never been close to anyone. Not my mom, not kids at school... not even Mark, I guess. I don't... I don't think I know how to have a real relationship. I don't know how to get comfortable. Even in Phoenix, I always felt like it would slip away at any moment. Even with Mark, I kept reminding myself not to get too comfortable. And I wish I could blame my mother, but it's _me_. It's _me_ who doesn't know how to put down roots. It's _me_ who has never really trusted anyone. It's _me_ who questions the motivations behind every little thing."

I paused, looking out the window. We were parked in front of my house now. Alice and Edward were sitting stock still, watching me.

"Even when I came here, even when Charlie welcomed me into his house with open arms... do you know that when he first showed me my room, I wondered who had lived there before me? I figured he'd had a kid with another woman or something... maybe rented the room out to locals. Outwardly, I knew that he'd put the space together for me, that he was taking care of me, but somewhere inside I just wouldn't believe it. He's been so generous, so kind, and still I sit there sometimes and wonder _why_. And it's _killing me_."

A tear made it's way down my cheek and I brushed it away angrily.

"_It's killing me_. All of this time and energy spent wondering what everyone's motives are, wondering when it's all going to be yanked away from me again..." I looked at the house that had become my new home, watched the treetops sway gently in the woods just beyond it. How quickly life can change.

"And then I met you. Both of you. And it felt, feels... permanent. Permanent in a way that I've never experienced before. And against my will, I'm so comfortable. And it's just so damn easy to get lost in you, in your presence, your existence..."

I looked at Alice, smiling sadly at her concerned expression.

"You know you were the first friend I've ever had that hugged me? _Hugged_ me. How pathetic is that? And you listen to me when I talk, and you always know that right things to say... and you know me better than anyone has ever known me in my entire life. You know my secret, my biggest secret, and you don't think I'm a freak of nature or some sort of scary witch girl... I told you, and you didn't run away, and that alone meant more to me than any coat you could ever buy me."

I shifted my gaze to Edward, wondering at the naked vulnerability in his eyes.

"And you," I barked out a quick, nervous laugh. "I don't know what to do with you. You're... so much. So _right_. And I don't have to try. I don't have to convince myself. When you look at me, I breathe. When you touch me, I come alive. And it's everything I don't believe in. It's sonnets and sunshine and birds and happy endings... and I don't know how to trust it. I want to so badly. But I don't understand. You're so easy with me, so natural... and I don't know why. I can't read your mind. I don't know what's going on. And you saved my life. And you lied. And I keep trying to be angry, but it's so damn hard..."

Movement outside of the car caught my eye, and I looked to see Charlie on the porch, squinting at the long black car now parked in front of his house.

"I'm going to go, but I need you both to understand... I need time. And I need patience. And I need you to listen to me when I ask you not to do things. And you've done so much for me... so, so much... but I need you to try to see where I'm coming from. This is so foreign to me... these feelings and the... the gifts. I don't know what to make of the gifts. I'm not used to them, and certainly not in this volume. Or this level of extravagance..."

Charlie began walking up to the car, and I slid towards the door.

"I really did have a wonderful time this weekend," I said apologetically, reaching for the handle. "And I'm very, very grateful for all that you've done for me. More grateful than I could ever possibly express..."

I opened the door, getting one foot onto the pavement before a cool hand wrapped around my arm, stopping me. I looked back to see Edward's face inches from my own, his eyes amber eyes swimming with emotions that I couldn't sort out.

"Isabella, there is so much to say," he breathed, tilting his head so his forehead rested on mine.

"I need some time," I whispered, pulling away even as my body begged me to stay. "Just give me some time."

**A/N: Big thanks to IssaBissa for getting this back to me so quickly.**

**Review.**


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve**

Charlie didn't comment on the limousine I all but ran away from. He didn't say a word about the army of shopping bags he helped me shuttle up to my bedroom. He didn't bat an eyelash at the shiny new iPhone I slammed onto my desk like it had wronged me personally in some way. But when I asked him if we could go out to dinner since I didn't feel like cooking... well, he smiled. It was kind of nice, actually.

One quick car ride and a cracked vinyl booth later, I found myself seated across the table from my father at the Forks Diner, a place I had absolutely no memory of but, for some reason, _everyone_ seemed to remember me.

I was brought a cheeseburger and fries... which I did not order. Apparently, they used to be my favorite. The waitress was so proud of herself, I didn't have the heart to send it back.

"How often did we used to come here?" I asked through a mouthful of greasy burger.

"All the time," Charlie answered, cutting up his steak. "Your mother didn't like to cook."

"Yeah... still doesn't," I muttered, reaching for my water. I guess there was more bitterness in my tone than I realized because Charlie slowly placed his utensils on his plate and looked up at me, his face concerned.

"About that, Bella... we never really talked about-"

"We don't need to," I rushed, cutting him off, gulping down half my glass.

"I think we do."

"Really. It's not necessary. No use living in the past."

"Isabella, I am your father and if I say we're going to talk about it then, damn it, we're going to talk about it," he said firmly, laying his hands flat against the worn formica of the table.

I ate a french fry in response.

"Now, I know you were mad at me all those years... hell, you're probably _still_ mad at me... but I didn't want you to go, Bella bear. And I sure didn't want your mom to leave-"

"Sure," I mumbled, rolling my eyes.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing. I was agreeing with you. Continue."

Charlie took a bite of his steak. Then another. He added some butter to his baked potato. He took a sip of his coffee. I fidgeted.

"I'm not sure what's going on here," Charlie finally said to me, looking me dead in the eye. "I don't know what to say to you. Things have been going so well, I thought. But I know you're still mad at me, Isabella, even if you don't say so. I mean, it's been so long-"

"I'm not mad at you. I don't know why you keep saying that," I defended, leaning towards him over the table, fully cognizant of the fact that we were in a very crowded restaurant in a very small town.

"All those cards, Isabella. And the letters. And the birthday gifts. You never called me once," he said quietly, his eyes focused on the plate in front of him.

Cards? Letters? Gifts? What the hell?

"Charlie, I don't understand," I began, noticing his grimace when I forgot to call him 'dad.' "What cards? What are you talking about?

"I know it wasn't enough," he all but whispered, rubbing his hand over his face. "I just didn't know what else to do. She said you didn't want me to visit, and it was the best I could-"

"Wait. _What_?" I said too loudly, catching the attention of a handful of diners at the counter. "What do you mean 'she?' Who is 'she?'"

"Renee," he told me. "Your mother."

I stared at him, hard. I swear I felt my heart break in two.

"She told you I-"

"Didn't want me to visit," he finished for me, nodding. "She explained everything to me, Bells. You don't have to worry about hurting my feelings. I understood."

All I could do was blink at him. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I felt like the life had been sucked out of me.

"Isabella, are you alright?" Charlie asked, reaching across the table towards me. I sat back in my seat reflexively. He flinched.

I had nothing to say. I wouldn't know how to say it if I did. I thought about my mother. I wondered what else she had kept from me. What else she had done to me. I felt sick.

"I need some air," I said suddenly, already beginning to slide out of the booth.

I didn't wait for him to respond. I walked as quickly as I could towards the door, swallowing reflexively, willing the panic back.

I stumbled into the parking lot, running blindly towards a lone picnic table in a field towards the back. Hot, angry tears fought their way from my eyes. My stomach churned. I couldn't breathe.

I dropped to my knees and retched, emptying my stomach onto the grass over and over until I tasted nothing but bile and the salt from my tears. I let go of everything and sobbed with abandon, dragging myself away from the mess I had made on the ground and beating my fists against the damp earth until they were raw and sore and bleeding. I heard a voice call my name in the distance. And then everything went black.

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I woke up to a cool hand on my forehead. A hand that felt strangely familiar, yet foreign at the same time. My mouth was dry and stale and my eyes felt like they had been glued shut.

"Isabella? Can you hear me?" a steady voice asked.

"Bella, honey? Bella bear, please wake up. Why isn't she waking up?" That was Charlie. He sounded frantic.

"She's coming around, Chief. Isabella, can you hear me?"

I groaned and rolled my head to the other side. It was the best I could do.

"There, see? Isabella, I'd like you to open your eyes for me. Alright? Come on, now. Open your eyes." The voice was melodic and comforting. It reminded me of Edward. So did the hand, as a matter of fact.

With effort, I managed to open my eyes, blinking at the harsh light from the lamp on the end table. The man with the cool hands noticed my discomfort and left my side to switch it off. Charlie immediately took his place.

"God, Bella bear, I was so worried," he cried, wrapping his arms around me and yanking me towards his chest. I tried to remember the last time I had heard my father sound so worried. Granted, we didn't have a long history, but I doubted it had ever happened before. But he was hugging me, now, in a hug that he had instigated. It felt nice. I moved to reciprocate, but winced when I moved my hands. That hurt.

"You have some minor lacerations on your knuckles," the man with the cool hands told me, stepping back into my line of sight and making me lose my concentration for a moment. He was astonishing to look at. All icy blonde hair and movie star features. "There's some swelling and there'll be some bruising as well. It looks like you gave something quite a beating."

"Yeah," I agreed weakly, moving back from Charlie, trying to get my bearings. I glanced around. Oh. This was the living room. I was on the couch. That made sense. "Could I get some water, please?"

"Of course, Bells," Charlie replied, jumping up and hurrying into the kitchen.

"I'm Carlisle Cullen," the man with the cool hands offered, stepping closer still and speaking quietly. "We've met before, but I don't think you'll remember."

"The accident," I murmured, watching as he squatted back down next to the couch so I didn't have to strain to look at him.

"That's right. I wish we could have met under more pleasant circumstances." He gave me a small smile. It was entirely too charming.

"I appreciate everything you've done for me," I said by way of response. He smiled wider, placing a hand on my cheek.

"I appreciate everything you've done for my family," was his enigmatic reply. He pushed some hair off my face in a fatherly gesture, tucking it behind my ear.

"Here's your water," Charlie called, walking back into the room and handing me the glass. He stacked some pillows behind me and helped me sit up before taking a seat next to me on the arm of the sofa.

"Thank you so much, Dr. Cullen, for coming over so quickly. I just didn't know what to do and going to the hospital didn't seem right-"

"Please, Chief. I was glad to. And how many times have I asked you to call me Carlisle?"

"Probably just as many times as I've asked you to call me Charlie," was my father's reply. I could hear the smile in his voice. I was glad.

"Well then, Charlie, just make sure Isabella here gets a good night's sleep and some ice on those knuckles and she'll be back to it in no time," Carlisle said, clapping a hand on my shoulder before moving towards the door.

"Let me see you out," Charlie offered, but Carlisle shook his head.

"I know the way, Charlie. You feel better, Isabella," Carlisle said, sending me a smile and what I believe was a wink.

"Thank you, Dr. Cullen," I called as he left, waiting until the door was closed firmly behind him before looking up at Charlie. "I'm sorry, dad."

Charlie said nothing for a long moment, and then pulled me into a hug again.

"Let's just get you upstairs, kid."

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I can't remember the last time I was tucked into bed. I have no memories of my mother ever doing it once we left. But Charlie...

We took the stairs slowly, with Charlie murmuring his encouragement the whole way. He had me wait in the bathroom as he went up into my room and, with my permission, retrieved some pajamas. He stood patiently outside the bathroom door as I changed and washed my face and brushed my teeth, grimacing at the sensitivity of my hands and the sore heaviness of my tear-swollen eyelids. He helped me patiently into my room, pulling back the covers and settling me in bed. He fluffed the pillows behind my head and brought the comforter up to my chin, smoothing it carefully on either side of me so there were no wrinkles. He brought the rocking chair in the corner closer to the bed before lowering himself into it and speaking quietly.

"When you were a little girl, you were afraid of the dark. Did you know that?" he asked me, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.

I shook my head.

"You were terrified. We tried everything. We bought you nightlights, we left your door open, we even started leaving the lights on in your room. Nothing worked, though, and every night it was a fight to get you into that bed, to get you to fall asleep. It was so hard..." he drifted off, shaking his head.

"So what happened?" I asked, curious. I remembered none of this.

"One morning, and I'll never forget this, you came down to breakfast and looked me right in the eye and said 'Daddy, I'm not gonna be scared anymore.' And, just like that," Charlie laughed, smiling, remembering, "just like that it was over. You weren't afraid of the dark anymore. You decided to fix it, and you did. It was the strangest thing."

"Sounds like," I said, smiling along with him. It was nice hearing about the past.

"You were... you are... just such an amazing person, Isabella. You made your mind up to do something, and you had the strength of character to see it through. My 3-year-old little girl told me that she didn't want to be afraid of the dark... and so she got over it. It was astounding."

"I wish I could remember," I told him quietly, tilting my head to the side. "It's all such a blur up until... well, up until we left."

"Yeah," he murmured, propping his chin on his hands and looking at me thoughtfully.

"Dad, I'm sorry about today."

The silence stretched out forever between us until he responded.

"What happened, Isabella? I thought you would wait by the car or something and then I go looking for you and I find you in that field... I was so scared. I don't think I've ever been that scared."

"I'm sorry," I repeated, feeling as though I would never be able to say it enough. "It's just... some of those things you told me... they took me by surprise."

"Like what?" he asked.

"Like you wanting to see me, for a start. Like you sending me things. You trying to contact me."

The room was dim, but Charlie visibly paled, his lips flattening into a hard line.

"She didn't tell you?" he asked after an age, his eyes searching my face.

"She didn't tell me anything," I said turning on my side to fully face him. "I'm so sorry, dad."

His posture tensed and his eyes hardened, glinting in a way I'd never seen before. My father was furious. And not at me.

"No. _I'm_ sorry, Isabella. I should have fought harder for you." He stood up and placed a hand on my cheek, smiling sadly at me. "I should have never stopped fighting. Goodnight, Bella bear. I love you."

My father gave me a soft kiss on the forehead and tousled my hair before turning and walking out the door, closing it softly behind him. With a soft sigh and an easy smile, I drifted off to sleep, contented and comfortable for the first time that day.

**A/N: I know this was on the short side compared to the last few chapters, but I felt it needed to stand alone. Thanks to IssaBissa for coaxing me through my writer's block, and thanks to the HUGE amount of reviewers who've helped get my count up over the past week. I can't thank everyone enough for their support. I know it's been rather angsty lately, but I promise the fun is coming. :)**

******As always... PLEASE REVIEW! :)**


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter Thirteen**

My dreams were oddly transient. More so than they'd ever been before. I saw Charlie holding my baby picture in his room. I saw Alice explaining our weekend to Jasper, shaking her head as she reached the end of it, the bit where I ran away. I saw my mother snoring on the recliner in my old house, with the television blaring and Phil nowhere in sight. I saw Mark ranting about me to his friend Stephen. The words coming out of his mouth, well... I just didn't recognize him anymore.

And then I was in the woods. It was night time, and hard to make out anything, but there was a small clearing and just enough moonlight filtering down through the clouds, through the trees. I saw a boy, a man, sitting on a rock. He wore a white shirt, so his movements were easy to mark as he ran his hands through his hair over and over again...

Suddenly, he stopped moving, cocking his head to the side... he seemed to sniff the air and then... a mountain lion ran from behind a tree, taking off towards a more densely wooded area. The man leapt off his perch and all but disappeared, his form a dim white blur as he tracked the big cat, chased it, leapt upon it, and...

A shaft of moonlight pushed through the trees above, better illuminated fragments of the man's form as he hunched over the animal and...

Flashes of tousled bronze hair over a porcelain white face with features too beautiful, too perfect to be real, and then red... blood red... covering the man's mouth, staining his lips...

He dropped the mountain lion's limp body to the ground, bringing his fingers to his face, wiping and licking the red away in a gesture that should not have been sensual but somehow _was_, in a gesture that should have been disturbing but somehow _was not_.

And he walked back to his rock, calm as could be, a patch of white in a sea of darkness, climbing gracefully back on top and assuming his original posture, head in hands, fingers in hair.

He spoke one word. Quietly, reverently.

Mournfully.

"Isabella."

I woke up.

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I wrote everything down... more out of habit than anything else. I was beginning to lose faith in the journalling, though perhaps it was the act itself that was important, and not the evidence.

I tried not to think too much about what I'd just seen. But I couldn't exactly go back to sleep, either. And it was only 2 a.m.

I turned on every light in my room and began hanging the clothes that had become such a point of contention over the weekend. I shook each piece out, smoothing it over the hanger and imagining Alice seeing the act in a vision and smiling. I even tried to arrange the closet in a manner that would meet with her approval, but gave up in the end... there was only so much a person could do to organize a rack full of clothes.

After the clothes came the shoes, of course. I stacked the emptied boxes in the corner, arranging them into a sort of fort. I wondered what Charlie would think if he came up here and saw the state of my closet. He hadn't seemed to notice the volume of what was being carried up the stairs. Perhaps he just didn't care. Perhaps I shouldn't care as well...

There were four bags left, white and minimalist and with a silver Apple logo in the center. I refused to go near them. At some point, I realized I would have to dig out the charger for my new phone, but... well, that wouldn't be today. Not now, at least.

I thought about Edward. I tried to reconcile the boy in the limo today with the... creature from my dream. But creature wasn't a fair term. He had still been beautiful. Not...

It was a big leap, of course, connecting Edward with... that... but they...

I mean, it _had_ to be him, right?

I went to my desk, retrieving my journals from Phoenix, and flipped to the last page of the last book. Pale figures with dark eyes drinking from the necks of animals. I remembered now. I had seen it before, just not in such... vivid detail.

This had been different from the others. This had been like I was living it, not watching. The only other thing I could compare it to was the meadow. The first time I saw Edward. Sitting in a field of flowers. Telling me about his family.

And if only one dream, a dream about Edward, had ever been so vivid... well, wouldn't that mean that _this_ dream had been about him as well?

Bronze hair and pale skin...

Red... so much red...

And then my name...

It was too much.

I looked at the clock on my nightstand. 4 a.m. Good enough for me.

I grabbed a pair of sweats from my dresser and the lone hoodie that Alice had allowed me to buy. For the first time since I had moved to Forks, really, for the first time since I had _decided_ to move to Forks, I went for a run.

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I started out easy. I jogged up and down the street in front of the house, ignoring the chilly dampness of the still-night air. But it wasn't enough, so I made a right onto the town's main drag, moving at an even pace past the elementary school, the high school, the meager shopping district.

As I moved, I was plagued by images. Dreams and reality, past and present. So much had happened to me, around me, with me...

I saw amber eyes and a smiling mouth, only to watch them shift into my mother's scowling face. I saw Mark punching the wall in my old room, but replaced him with Alice smiling and laughing and hugging me on our shopping trip.

There was so much going on here... so much that I didn't understand. But in the end... did it matter? The Cullens were strange, yes, but so was I. So was everyone. And in the end, you either look past the strangeness, or you let it blind you.

I didn't understand what I had been shown tonight. And part of me was terrified... but not by what I had seen... more by my lack of reaction. I was thoughtful and puzzled... and I was relatively certain that the man had been Edward and, even if it hadn't happened tonight, it had been or would be... recent.

He'd seemed upset.

He'd said my name.

I didn't know what to think.

I ran faster.

Now I was on the outskirts of town. The buildings were spaced further apart, the trees lining the road spaced closer together. But there was still pavement under my feet, and so I kept moving. Running blindly.

I tried to make a list. Signs, symptoms, quirks... what did it all mean?

They were all beautiful. All of them. Every last one. But they weren't related. Not really. I understood that now... I think. And Alice had seen me first...

Pale skin. Across the board. And I was pretty sure they all had the same eyes. Amber. Honey. Gold. Whatever the descriptor, they were the same. Though Edward's were warmer to me than his sister's. Softer. I liked his eyes the best.

And they were cold. I couldn't leave that out. Every time one of them reached for me, it was as though they had been standing outside in the dead of winter without a jacket or gloves. But it wasn't unpleasant. And Edward's touch felt warmer than his sister's, for some reason... though it was definitely still chilled. His hands, though... when they touched me it was like electricity. My body generated enough warmth for both of us when he was around...

And Alice could see the future. Which wasn't so odd to me, because I could do it, too. The only difference was the method, really. I did it while I slept. She never slept. Another thing to consider.

And then, they never eat, either. I thought back to all those days we'd spent together. She'd order food when I did, but would only pick at it, really. She'd cut it up. Rearrange it on the plate. She said she'd explain later... that it was related to everything else.

And there was the dream. It kept coming back to the dream. Moving faster than I could comprehend, taking down a wild and dangerous animal, bringing its neck to his lips...

It was almost too much. Almost.

But not quite.

The sun was rising now, but it didn't matter. It was kind of pretty, actually. All the clouds were turning shades of pink. Grey pink, but pink all the same. I kept running.

There was a conclusion to be reached here. A period to put on the end of the sentence. And I reached for it, trying to grab hold, but it kept slipping through my fingers, dancing away at the last moment.

Pale and beautiful and strange and deadly.

My beautiful new friends. Who told me that we were family. Bonded. Mated.

Mate.

Where had I heard that word?

Someone had used it.

It was antiquated and primal, but then, I suppose, so were they.

A car sped past me, honking, bringing me back into the world.

I looked around. I had no idea where I was.

And my legs... were rubber. Useless.

I collapsed into the grass on the side of the road, sprawling out on my back and watching the sky continue to change colors as it filled with the rising sun.

I tried to catch my breath. I tried to will feeling back into my legs. I tried to care where I had ended up. But it didn't seem to matter. Not when there was so much more going on...

I listened as a car pulled onto the shoulder, slowing down and stopping not ten feet from me. A door slammed and feet crunched through gravel, growing closer every moment.

"That's a strange place to take a nap, Bella bear," a familiar voice said.

"I was tired," I explained, maintaining my spot on the ground.

"I guess it's a good thing I came and got you, then. Come on. Get in the car. This grass is ruining my heels."

I struggled to my feet and moved slowly towards the ridiculous vehicle, wobbling like a newborn foal on my overtaxed legs. When I stumbled, a hand was there, small and pale and cold, holding on to me, keeping me upright. And finally we'd covered the small distance and I dropped gratefully into a black, leather bucket seat.

"The diner's about to open," Alice said, settling herself behind the wheel. "How about you buy me a cup of coffee?"

**A/N: As ever, big thanks to IssaBissa, beta extraordinaire, who continues to fight the good fight between me, my indecision, and my much beloved sentence fragments.**

**Simon says review. Don't disappoint Simon.**


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter Fourteen**

Though I had thought Alice was joking, she really did drive us to the Forks Diner. We chose an out of the way booth in a far corner of the restaurant and spent a few minutes people watching and joking about the breakfast crowd, which was predominately male and almost universally clad in plaid flannel and denim.

Alice ordered her coffee, which we both knew she wouldn't touch, and I ordered myself half a grapefruit, cringing at the idea of putting anything more substantial into my exhausted body after such a long run.

"So, I had a long night," I finally said, sprinkling Splenda over my grapefruit.

"Tell me about it," Alice encouraged, holding her mug in front of her nose as though savoring the aroma.

"Well, I had a talk with Charlie which was... educational."

I looked to her and she nodded for me to continue.

"It sounds like my... mom... was keeping him away from me," I said quietly, attempting to sound less affected than I actually was.

"That's terrible, Bella. How did you find out?" Alice asked, leaning towards me slightly over the table.

"We just sort of fell into the conversation," I began, stealing Alice's untouched mug and taking a sip before sliding it back across to her. "He mentioned my mother and it just set off this whole thing... he _apologized_ to me, Alice. It was horrible. He kept saying how sorry he was that I was so angry with him. And his face... he was just so _hurt_."

"What did you learn?"

"Not much," I admitted, spearing a section of grapefruit. "He said something about sending me cards and gifts and things... trying to call... I sort of freaked out halfway through it and ran. I seem to be doing that a lot lately," I added wryly, popping the citrus into my mouth.

"It's understandable, Bella, and completely warranted. You've experienced a great deal in a very short amount of time."

"Still," I shook my head, tucking an errant lock of hair behind my ear, "I never used to be that girl."

We were quiet for a while as I finished my fruit and took a few more pulls off of Alice's coffee.

"Anyway, your dad came over later that night. I'm sure he told you."

"He mentioned it, but he _is_ a doctor. Patient confidentiality and whatnot. I don't actually know what happened."

"Well, Charlie told me all that stuff and I took off... and all I really remember is getting sick and crying... it was like a breakdown. I ran off into some field behind the diner... _this_ diner, actually." I glanced around, taking in the people behind the counter. "This place has gotten a lot of action lately."

"So you had a breakdown..." she prompted.

"Yeah. Anyway, I woke up and I was at home on the couch. Your dad was there. He taped up my hands and left," I finished, holding up my bandaged knuckles.

"How'd you do that?" Alice asked, reaching forward to examine my hand.

"I think I took my frustration out on the ground," I said, struggling to remember the exact circumstances. "It's pretty hazy, to be honest."

"But you're fine now. With everything, I mean."

She looked straight at me. It was a statement, not a question.

"I think so. We talked it out when I went to bed."

"Good," she nodded. "That's good."

"It is," I agreed, motioning for the check.

We were quiet again as we waited for our waitress to bring the bill. And then it occurred to me that we had a lot more to talk about.

"Is that what you're wearing to school?" I asked Alice, motioning to her sweater set.

"I was feeling whimsical," she said by way of response, straightening the dainty string of pearls around her throat. "But I wasn't planning on changing. Why?"

"Well, did you want to maybe come to my house? Like, now? You could help me pick out an outfit, and we could talk some more..."

"Duh!" she squealed, throwing some cash on the table to cover the bill. Too much cash.

"Alice, I said I'd pay," I admonished, eyeing the offending pile of money.

"No, _I_ said you'd pay, and I was only joking," she replied with a shake of her head. "Besides, Bella bear, did you remember to bring your wallet on your run this morning?"

I gaped at her for a moment. It hadn't even crossed my mind.

"I thought not."

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One shower and a blow out later found me sitting cross-legged on my bed as Alice rifled through my newly stocked closet.

"Put this on," she'd call every so often, tossing items onto the bed.

By the end of the raid, I was wearing dark skinny jeans and a white tuxedo shirt with a black vest.

"That'll do for now," Alice said flippantly before climbing carefully onto my bed and arranging herself behind me. "What else did you want to talk about?"

"This weekend," I responded, trying not to be distracted by the pile of bobby pins she dumped onto the bedspread next to me. "I wanted to talk about this weekend."

"So, talk," she encouraged lightly, running her fingers through my hair and dividing it into sections.

"I guess I just don't know where to start," I managed eventually. "I mean... when I think about the timeline of... everything... It overwhelms me."

"What does?"

"Well, this for a start," I responded, gesturing into the room. "You sitting on my bed with me at 6:30 on a Monday morning, helping me pick out my clothes and playing with my hair. I mean, we met a week ago today, Alice..."

"Why do you keep bringing that up?" she asked curiously, re-positioning my head so that I was looking to the side.

"Because it seems... strange. It bothers me."

"But does it bother you because it doesn't feel right, or does it bother you because you feel like it should bother you?" she asked enigmatically, guiding my head over so she could reach the opposite side.

"What's the difference?" I asked, trying to focus on her words rather than how quickly her fingers seemed to be moving through my hair.

"The difference is all about being honest with yourself, I suppose. Like... let's take your visions," she began thoughtfully. "When you first realized what they meant, how did you feel?"

"Scared," I responded after a moment. "I didn't like the idea of knowing so much, of being different... I wondered what it meant about me as a person... I still do sometimes."

"But they're a part of you now. Once you accepted them, you grew to rely on them. Would you say that's right?"

"Yes," I said immediately. "I didn't like it when they went away those few days. It felt like a part of me was missing."

She secured one last bobby pin in my hair before jumping lightly off the bed and began rummaging through the overnight bag I'd dumped in the corner.

"How long did it take you to finally accept them?" Alice asked, removing a silver train case from the bag before jumping back onto my bed. At least I knew now where the weight had come from when I'd hefted that thing upstairs.

"The dreams?" I asked. "It took a few weeks, maybe. Months, really, if I'm being honest. There were some nights when I would do everything in my power not to go to sleep. And there were plenty of times that I tried to avoid fulfilling things that I'd seen..."

"Do you think it would have been easier if you had just accepted them as a part of you?"

"Absolutely," I said immediately. "Those initial weeks made me miserable. I was a wreck. And, in the end, there was nothing I could do about them. All that misery was wasted."

I sat there, remembering the lengths to which I'd gone to try to avoid who I was, idly watching as Alice began lining up products on the bed. Eye shadow, lip gloss, some sort of powder, mascara...

"Was there a point to this line of questioning?" I asked eventually, trying not to flinch as she applied moisturizer to my face a bit more firmly than I'm sure she'd intended.

"Just that when you first figured out that your dreams were prophetic, you made yourself miserable worrying about the implications. You took something that was a fundamental part of you, a remarkable part of who you are, and questioned it."

"And you're saying I shouldn't question this?" I extrapolated, gesturing between the two of us.

"What I'm saying, Isabella Swan, is that you cannot view something extraordinary through ordinary lenses. It will distort the image. Now close your eyes so I can do your shadow," she finished.

I complied with a snort, lowering my eyelids, only to open them on her command a moment later.

"What I meant by my question before, Bella, is that you seem to be more concerned with what things look like rather than what they are," she said quietly, wielding a mascara wand.

"I don't know that that's true," I argued weakly.

"Isn't it?" she asked without malice. "When we went shopping over the weekend, what bothered you so much about me buying you a gift?"

"I don't have a problem with gifts, Alice. What you bought me wasn't a gift, it was a wardrobe!" I gestured wildly towards the closet. "It was ridiculous."

"Why was it ridiculous?" she persisted, sweeping gloss over my lips. "What is the difference between one shirt and ten shirts?"

"Are you kidding? Money! You spent a fortune on me!"

"Yes. As a gift. A gift is a gift, no matter the size, Isabella. The bottom line is, there is _no_ difference between one shirt and ten. If giving you a gift makes me happy, and receiving a gift from me makes _you_ happy, then it is a successful transaction. And should I desire to buy you a single garment or the entire store, the sentiment is still the same. You aren't obsessing over the act, but the price. And that, to be quite frank, is rather petty of you."

"Alice!" I all but yelled, mindful of Charlie downstairs.

"It's true," she insisted, crossing her arms and staring me down.

"Be that as it may-" I hedged, only to be cut off.

"What if you bought me a gift, Bella? What if you bought me a pair of earrings, let's say... you shop, you pick them out, you purchase them, you wrap them, and you present them to me. How would you feel if I asked you how much they cost?" she asked, lips pursed.

"That's an entirely different-"

"It is not and you know it," she replied. "Money is money. No matter how much or how little is spent, it is the sentiment behind it that matters. I bought you those clothes because you are a beautiful girl who should treat herself better, and I hoped that some new outfits might lift your spirits and help you see how amazing you are. Look in the damn mirror, Bella," she said, dragging me from my bed and positioning me in front of the mirror on my wall. "Look at yourself."

And I did. Alice had twisted and folded and pinned my hair into some sort of elaborate French braid that sat atop my head like a crown, elongating my neck and making me look older. My makeup was, again, simple and elegant, highlighting my eyes and adding definition my cheek bones. The outfit she had selected for me was... cool. The skinny jeans made my legs look infinitely longer, and the white pleated shirt somehow brought out the rosiness of my skin tone. I didn't look like pale, plain Bella. I looked like hipster, chic Bella.

"You did this," I choked, gesturing. "This isn't me, Alice. I'm not this girl."

"You're wrong," Alice disagreed, stepping into the reflection next to me. "It _is_ you, Bella. All of this," she gestured from my artfully styled hair to my sock-clad toes, "is just window dressing. The girl under the hair and the makeup and the designer labels... she's still you."

She walked away for a moment, returning with a pair of black galoshes and my locket. Quickly and quietly, she helped me step into the tall boots, hiding a smile when I lost my balance and almost crashed to the floor. Next, she jumped up on her toes, drawing the long silver chain over my head and carefully settling my totem over my shirt for all to see.

"There," she said, patting me on the shoulder. "You look ready to me. Let's go learn something."

She hoisted my bag over her shoulder and practically glided down the stairs, trilling goodbye to a surprised Charlie before bounding ahead of me into her car.

"We're carpooling today!" she called over the engine, grinning.

Shaking my head, I called my own goodbye to Charlie before following her.

"I had a dream about Edward last night," I blurted suddenly, buckling my seatbelt.

"He knows," she replied cryptically as she pulled away from the curb. "He knows."

**A/N: Thanks as always to IssaBissa for her diligence... and thanks to everyone who reviewed last chapter.**

**So... here's the deal, guys. Many of you have asked me for an EPOV and, to be honest, I'm open to the idea. I have no interest in adding it to this story, but I might be willing to begin a separate Of Dreams Outtakes story... for a price.**

**I want reviews and I'm willing to buy them from you. Give me enough reviews, and I'll give you an Edward outtake... I'll even let people vote. You tell me what you want to read, and I'll do my best to accommodate you.**

**Clearly, I'm not too proud to beg, so... there it is.**

**Thanks for reading.**

**Now hit the button. :)**


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter Fifteen**

Edward wasn't at school. He wasn't in the parking lot with the rest of his siblings as they talked and laughed before class. He wasn't in the hallways between classes, rolling his eyes at Emmett and Rosalie's nearly pornographic displays of affection. He wasn't in the lunchroom offering me secret smiles as Alice talked my ear off. He wasn't at our lab table in Biology, where I paid more attention to his empty stool than I did to Mr. Banner's lecture. He was just gone. And for the first time, Alice didn't want to talk about it.

I couldn't figure out why he wouldn't be there when the rest of his family was. It seemed strange, having everyone else there but him. His empty chair at lunch was haunting. His empty stool in class was even worse. Sure, he hadn't been entirely present the week before, but there had been a reason for that. Now... I was worried that it was because of me.

I spent the bulk of gym class hovering at the edge of the basketball court and obsessing over Edward's absence. That feeling I had gotten on my first day of school, that feeling of anticipation and loss that seemed to radiate from my chest, was back in full force. It felt like time was moving slower, like something was off.

Where was he?

I thought back to my dream and to Alice's reaction when I told her I'd had one.

"He knows."

What did that mean? How could he know? And what would he think if he did?

Maybe he was upset about my little speech on Sunday. Maybe he thought me ungrateful. Maybe he was disgusted by my former involvement with Mark. Maybe he came to his senses and realized how amazing he was, how plain and unremarkable I was in comparison. Maybe...

"Hey, Isabella, you gonna stand there all day?"

I looked up, startled, into the too-blue eyes of Mike Newton.

"What?" I asked.

"Class is over. The bell rang," he explained, gesturing to the now emptied gym.

"Oh," I said distractedly, shaking my head. "Yeah... guess I spaced out there for a minute. Thanks, Mike."

"No problem," he replied with a smile, a smile that I'm sure others thought charming and sweet but I, well... it was just a smile.

I made my way towards the girls' locker room, and changed back into my regular clothes. I had received countless compliments today, all thanks to Alice's fashion sense. My boots, my hair, my makeup, my jeans, all were exclaimed over by girls and guys alike, and I hated every second of it. I hated the added attention. It felt disingenuous and wrong. Still, I smoothed a hand down my shirt, checked my hair in the mirror, and slung my bag over my shoulder. I had made it through the day. My job was done.

Mike Newton was waiting for me outside the locker room.

"So, Isabella, any plans for this afternoon?" he asked casually, looking for all intents and purposes like he was checking something on his cell phone. But his mouth was set just a bit too firmly, his eyes too focused. He wasn't checking anything.

"Not really," I responded honestly, beginning to walk towards my locker in the Arts building. He followed suit, falling into step beside me. "You?"

"Well, my parents are staying in Seattle tonight. My dad has some sort of business dinner."

"I thought they owned a store?" I asked, vaguely remembering him saying something about that my first day here.

"Yeah. They're looking at taking on a partner and expanding, maybe opening a second branch in Seattle," Mike responded, puffing out his chest a bit.

"That's great," I said blandly. It was, I supposed. I really didn't care. I rubbed my chest absentmindedly, wishing the feeling would go away.

"Yeah. Anyway, they're out of town, so I'm sort of fending for myself for dinner...," he trailed off, following me into the building. He didn't even hold the door.

"Makes sense," I muttered, opening my locker and beginning to empty my bag into it.

"I was thinking of going out," he continued, "to the diner maybe. Or even Port Angeles. Maybe even see a movie..."

"Sounds fun, Mike," I said unenthusiastically, shutting my locker door and zipping up my bag before moving towards the exit. "Sounds like you've got a nice little night planned."

"Yeah."

We were walking towards the parking lot now. I couldn't figure out why he was telling me all this. I couldn't figure out why he was walking with me to begin with.

"You look really pretty today, Isabella," Mike said quietly, looking over at me.

"Thanks," I replied awkwardly, moving a little faster.

"I mean, you're pretty every day, but today..."

"I get it, Mike," I said tersely, resisting the urge to flat out run.

He got quiet again, matching my pace. We were approaching the parking lot, close enough to make out the individual cars. I squinted and looked around. I did not see Alice.

"About tonight, Isabella. Since you don't have any plans..."

I squinted harder, almost jogging now, looking around frantically. No Alice.

"Since you don't have any plans, I was wondering if maybe you wanted to-"

"Isabella," a velvet voice called out from my right. A voice I had been waiting to hear all day.

"Edward," I breathed, forgetting Mike entirely.

"Alice had to go home early," Edward explained, walking towards me from his Volvo. "She asked me to pick you up."

"Cullen," Mike spat, startling me. "What are you doing here?"

"I am here to retrieve Isabella," Edward replied, his eyes locked on mine. "I believe I already explained that."

"I'll give you a ride home, Isabella. Or we could go see a movie, like we were talking about earlier? Come on. It'll be fun."

Mike reached for my arm, locking his fingers around my wrist and tugging me away from Edward. I recoiled so hard from the feeling of his hand on my skin that I almost lost my balance.

But Edward was there, wrapping one arm around my shoulders and using the other to remove Mike's hand from my person.

"You will not touch her again if you know what's good for you," he hissed, his eyes cold. He moved his hand to the small of my back. The hollow feeling in my chest receded.

"Why don't you let her speak for herself?" Mike demanded, his tone more frightened than forceful. "You don't have to go with him, Isabella. Let's go have some fun."

Edward's face twisted into a grimace before morphing into something akin to fury. The arm encircling me tensed. His eyes darkened.

"You little-"

"Edward," I soothed, bringing my hand to his chin and encouraging him to look at me, "let's get going. Thank you very much for the invitation, Mike, but Edward _did_ go out of his way to come pick me up. Maybe some other time," I offered diplomatically.

Edward growled beside me.

"Sure," Mike said, trying not to look dejected and failing miserably. "Anytime you want, you just say the word. Maybe we could even go into Seattle sometime."

"Sounds good, Mike. Thanks for walking with me."

He smiled than, a more genuine smile, and I tried hard to care, but I was just going through the motions of politeness. He smiled, so I smiled back. He waved, so I waved back. The cold, hard, beautiful man next to me was tense, the anger rolling off of him in waves, but I just smiled and waved and tried not to think about it, tried to keep it together.

"What was that about?" I asked after Mike had gotten into his car and driven away, leaving us alone in the parking lot.

"That _boy_ does not deserve your kindness," Edward snarled, his eyes hard. "He does not deserve to speak your name let alone stand in your presence."

"Edward, what in the hell are you talking about?"

"The things going through his head... I could have killed him. I _should_ have killed him."

"How on earth would you know what was going through his head?" I asked, exasperated.

"We should get going," was his response.

"Edward-"

"He put his hands on you!" he snapped, his voice hard but his eyes pleading.

"He did," I confirmed, eyeing him warily.

"He does not deserve to touch you. He will never be good enough to touch you."

"You make me sound like some sort of deity," I joked weakly, taking calculated steps towards his parked car.

"You are," he answered fervently. "You are everything."

I stopped dead in my tracks and looked at him. Really looked.

"Your place or mine?" I asked.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Your place or mine?" I repeated, crossing my arms and raising an eyebrow. "We need to do this."

"Do what?" Edward asked, wrinkling his brow in confusion.

"Talk," I replied seriously, toying with my locket as internally I worried about his response.

His response which took forever.

Finally, amusement replaced confusion as he reached a pale hand out to halt my fidgeting.

"Yours," he said, offering me his first smile since his arrival. "Let's go to yours."

[][][][][][][][][][][][][][][]

The drive to my house was both quiet and awkward, at least for me. Edward seemed better, drumming his fingers idly against the wheel and occasionally smiling to himself. Still... I was a wreck.

I was bringing Edward Cullen home. And not just home, but presumably into my room. I tried picturing us talking in the kitchen or the living room, and couldn't manage it. Imagining him in my room was much easier... and made me blush.

And then we were there, pulling up to the curb. Edward gave me a warning look when I reached for my door so I stayed put, barely blinking before he was there, pulling it open and helping me out. And then we were at my door, Edward pausing at the threshold and taking a deep breath before stepping through. I don't know what that was about.

"Shall we go to my room?" I asked casually. Well, I hoped it sounded casual. I couldn't really hear myself with my pulse pounding away so loudly in my ears.

He nodded silently, his face impassive, and placed a hand at the small of my back, guiding me up the stairs. He maintained that posture the whole way, applying subtle pressure and almost steering me towards my room. I wondered how he knew where my room was, _if_ he knew where my room was, all the while hating myself for overanalyzing every little movement, breath, and blink that came from this boy. Well, this man. Edward.

We made it up to my attic, and I suddenly wondered if the bedroom was a bad idea. Where would I put him? Where would I put myself? Sitting on my bed with Alice felt natural, but would Edward think I was being too forward? Did Edward _want_ me to be forward? He seemed possessive and protective of me, but it might have been in a brotherly way... in the way Alice or even Emmett might defend me. Maybe I was reading him wrong. Maybe we should have stayed downstairs, where there were couches and chairs and no giant beds that took up half the room. And my room seemed so childish now, so simple and unlike the opulence of _his_ bedroom with its giant windows and fireplaces and...

"I can hear you thinking from here, Isabella," Edward said as he strode across the floor and settled himself in my desk chair. "Come sit."

He gestured at the rocker in the corner, but I hopped onto my desk instead, adopting my usual pose of crossed legs and hunched shoulders.

"Why do you like to sit there so much?" he asked curiously, eyeing my posture.

"It makes the ache go away," I responded before I really thought about it. And then I really thought about it and realized I was right.

"Ache?" he asked, concerned and interested all at once. "What ache?"

"It's this thing in my chest," I explained, rubbing my sternum absentmindedly. "It started when I moved here, but some things help. For some reason, this is one of them."

And it was. I could recognize that now. Nights when I was restless or afraid, my chest would seem to radiate the agitation, sending dull waves of pain down my limbs. But the desk made it better. So did the locket, for that matter. Nights when I slept with it on, I experienced no pain at all. But it would tangle in my hair, get caught on my skin... I didn't like wearing it to sleep. Now that I realized it, though...

"Sorry," I said sheepishly, snapping myself out of my mental tangent. "I'd never really thought about it before."

"I like watching you think."

"Oh. Alright."

Edward placed a hand on the edge of my desk, his fingers curling lightly over the dark wood, his paleness exaggerated by the starkly beautiful contrast. Without thinking, I reached forward and settled my hand on top of his, awestruck as I realized that the residual ache that had taken up residence in the time between the parking lot and this moment vanished, _vanished_ when I touched him.

"You make it go away, too," I muttered, more to myself than to him. But he heard me and smiled.

"For me as well, Isabella. More than you could ever know."

I didn't know what he meant by that but I was too distracted to ask. 

"What did you want to talk about?" he asked me finally, flipping his palm upwards beneath mine and twining our fingers together. Something inside of me flared and burned at the gesture, the sensation. A tingling warmth began to suffuse my limbs.

"Why weren't you in school today?"

"Many reasons," he hedged gracefully.

"Would you choose one and explain it to me?" I persisted. "I missed you."

"As I missed you, Isabella," he said, bringing our twined hands to his lips and kissing my knuckles. "You needn't worry. I will not attempt to stay away from you again. It was foolish of me to try."

"But why did you do it?" I demanded, trying to cut through the fog in my brain caused by his actions and words. "Everyone else was there. Why weren't you? What happened?"

He looked away, his expression darkening.

"Edward, you have to talk to me. You've explained nothing to me. Nothing!" I extricated my hand from his grasp and moved backwards across the surface of the desk until my back was flat against the wall. "You can't just... if we're going to do this, whatever this is, then we need to talk. _You_ need to be willing to talk to me."

I watched his expression carefully. Pain, worry, fear, longing, affection... his eyes kept changing, his jaw clenching and unclenching. He spent a full minute examining his hands in silence, seemingly fascinated by the texture of his jeans as he rubbed them back and forth over his thighs. I worried that he'd leave, worried that I'd pushed him too far but then finally, _finally_, he spoke.

"I was the first of Carlisle's 'children,'" he began slowly. "My parents passed in his hospital, sick with influenza, and my mother's dying words had been to him, asking him to take care of me. I was delirious with fever at the end, but I remember him sitting beside me, apologizing before he, well... that's a story for another day. In any event, when I awoke, the world was different and I was changed."

He stared hard at the floor, lost in memories it seemed. It took my hand on his shoulder to bring him back, and when he looked up at me, his face softened immediately.

"This is difficult for me," he said quietly, capturing my hand in his once more. "Please, just..."

"I'm here," I assured him with a soft smile. "I'm not going anywhere."

Satisfied, he stroked my palm idly before continuing.

"Carlisle had been alone before me, but when he changed me, well... I rebelled at first, but eventually we came to be a family. After me came Esme, who he loved immediately and with everything in his soul. Then Rosalie was found dying, and he changed her as well, hoping that perhaps I would find with her what he found with Esme."

I flinched at that, and he felt it, looking up at me with concerned eyes. I couldn't help it, though. Rosalie, in spite of her obvious personality defects, was the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen. The mere idea of her and Edward together had me miserable and furious simultaneously.

"Nothing came of it," he hastened, looking like he was fighting back a smirk. "I could not see her in that light. She was, and always will be, a sister to me and nothing more. I promise you that."

Still frowning, I nodded and he carried on.

"Rosalie found Emmett and knew, just like Carlisle knew when he first laid eyes on Esme. Emmett was mortally injured and Carlisle saved him in the same way he saved the rest of us, and the five of us formed a family of sorts. We travelled together and lived together. We loved each other. But I did not have what the others had... I did not have a partner of my own, and I began to lose hope.

I became despondent and morose. I broke away for nearly a decade, aimlessly crossing the globe but not really going anywhere. Looking back, I realize that I was looking for my other half, my mate, but I refused to admit that to myself at the time. By the end of it, by the time I came back to Carlisle, I was without hope. I believed that I was destined to be alone for the rest of my existence. I was miserable, but resigned."

My heart broke for him. He looked so lost before me, awash in memories that I wasn't privy to. I couldn't imagine how difficult it must have been for him, alone in a family of lovers. Without thinking, I slid off of the desk and directly into his lap, wrapping my body around him as though trying to absorb his sadness.

"Isabella," he whispered brokenly into my neck, drawing me closer into his body. "Isabella, you have no idea how long I've waited for you."

We stayed like that for an age, locked together like corresponding pieces of a puzzle, never wanting to let go. Eventually, he stood up, lifting me easily and carrying me over to my bed where he fluffed my pillows before propping me up against the headboard and snuggling in next to me. It was perfect, him being in my bed, in my room, in my life, and I forced myself to savor the feeling, the sense of rightness and peace that was without precedent in my life.

"Shall I continue?" he asked me quietly, stroking my arm with his graceful fingers and sending shivers down my spine.

I nodded against his chest, shifting myself closer and laying a hand flat against his abdomen.

"Not long after I returned, we found Alice... well, Alice found us. She appeared one morning on our doorstep, with Jasper in tow, and announced that she was destined to become a part of our family. And she's been with us ever since."

He chuckled softly and I melted further into him, enjoying the way his torso vibrated with every word.

"She's an amazing person," I said quietly.

"She is," he agreed. "Even more so, though, because she brought me hope. Of you."

I shifted in his arms so that I could look at him.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"You know of her gift, of her ability to see future events. What you do not know is of _my_ gift, Isabella. I am able to read minds."

I froze, trying to process the implications of his words. He could read minds. Alright. Did that mean that he could read _my_ mind? _Had he read my mind?_

Before I even realized it, I found myself in the opposite corner of the room.

"What do you mean you read minds?" I asked frantically. "What does that mean?"

"Calm down, Isabella," Edward pled, moving slowly off of the bed and taking measured steps towards me, approaching me as he would a frightened animal.

"What does that _mean_?" I demanded again, moving away as he approached, retreating until I was pressed against the wall.

"It means what it sounds like. I am able to read the thoughts of those around me."

"So you just listen to what people are thinking? That's... that's so wrong, Edward. It's like assault. How can you do that? You have no right!"

"Isabella, please-"

"No, _Edward_, please. How often do you do it? Have you ever read _my_ mind? Are you in there right now? Are you?"

He couldn't have looked more shocked if I'd backed over him with my car, but I didn't care. I was panicked, reeling, trying to remember every little thing that had crossed my mind since I'd met him, trying to beat back the mortification that was threatening to overtake me. A part of me realized that I was being irrational, but I didn't care.

"I can assure you, Isabella, that I am not now, nor have I ever been, in your mind," he said seriously, taking a step backwards. "You are the first and only person whose thoughts have ever been hidden from me and, even if they were not, I would not violate your trust in that way."

"What do you mean my thoughts are 'hidden' from you?" I snapped, only to flinch at my tone. I really was acting like a crazy person.

"You are the first respite I have found since Carlisle changed me. Your mind is silent to me. You have no idea of the sheer relief I find in your presence."

I slid down the wall, landing in an unladylike heap on the floor.

"I can see that I have offended you, and I apologize, but I can no more turn off my 'gift' than you can turn off yours. Still, I am sorry, Isabella, for upsetting you. I'll go now."

He turned on his heel and strode from the room, moving soundlessly down the stairs and out of sight. By the time I took off and ran after him, he was already sliding into the driver's seat of his car.

"Edward," I called, not caring that the neighbors were watching with a little too much interest. "Edward, please wait."

He stood but did not move away from the vehicle, rather standing between the open car door and the seat.

"Edward, I'm sorry," I said more quietly, walking as quickly towards him as I dared over the uneven grass of the front lawn. "I freaked out and I'm sorry. Can we please talk about this?"

Wordlessly, he closed and locked his car and slowly closed the distance between us.

"Thank you," I whispered, reaching out to take his hand. He shrugged me off.

"I think a change of venue is in order," he said, taking a step towards the dense trees on the far side of my house. "Walk with me."

And I did, crossing the lawn and stepping into the woods without a moment's hesitation. Edward didn't say anything as we journeyed deeper and deeper into the forest, and I didn't want to break the silence. For every twig and root and leaf I tripped on, he was there, his cool hand gripping my elbow, keeping me upright, and I was grateful for the ease with which he helped me, never laughing or poking fun at my lack of grace as so many others were wont to do. It was nice.

Eventually, the trees ahead of us began thinning out, the lush green canopy far above eventually giving way to more and more of the gray clouds that choked the sky.

"Tell me about your gift," I said finally, quietly, my tone one of contrition and, hopefully, understanding.

"When I was... well, before I was re-born, Carlisle tells me that I was good at reading people. My memories of that life, my first life, are hazy at best. I can see faces and hear voices, but it's like looking through a camera with a smudged lens. But he tells me that I saw through him immediately, knew that he was not like the other doctors in the hospital, or like anyone else, in fact. In any event, when I was changed, that latent instinct was heightened to become this... gift."

"What was it like when you woke up?"

"Loud," Edward said frankly. "Disorienting. Carlisle had taken me to a remote area, some place where I would not pose a danger to others, but I could still hear _him_. It took an age to grow used to it, knowing what he was thinking without him so much as opening his mouth, but he took it in stride and accepted me, tried to help me hone the skill as best he could. Eventually, when it was safe for me to be around others, we moved into a small town and I nearly went insane."

"Can you turn it off?" I asked, curious.

"No more than Alice or you can turn off your visions," he replied, shaking his head. "I can concentrate on one mind more than another, like adjusting the balance on a set of speakers, but I cannot shut out the voices or the images."

"Images?"

"Think about driving into school with Alice this morning. Bring the memory of that experience to the front of your mind. Do you have it?" he asked, eyeing me as we walked.

I nodded.

"Good. Now think about the memory itself. Are you remembering in words or pictures right now?"

"Pictures," I replied, a bit surprised.

"That's how most people think," he explained, placing a steadying hand on my back as I stumbled over an errant rock. "There is always an inner monologue, but fantasies and memories alike are generally more visual."

"And you can't... you haven't heard me? Or seen?" I asked timidly.

"No," he confirmed, shifting his arm so it circled my waist. "I cannot and have not been able to access your conscious mind."

I bit my lip, thankful for that, wondering what it meant. Was it just another part of the connection I felt with him? Did he only like me because I afforded him some peace and quiet?

Did he just prevaricate by saying "conscious?"

"Edward, what did you-?"

"Isabella," he interrupted quietly, grasping my hand and leading me through an errant clump of trees. "We're here."

I looked up from the uneven ground, wondering where exactly "here" was. I hadn't known that we were walking someplace in particular. I'd thought we were just walking...

The clearing was broad but not terribly deep. There was grass everywhere, tall and green and peppered with purple and white wildflowers, all reaching towards the sky in an effort to capture the meager amount of sunlight that Washington had to offer. At some point, probably during some storm, a tree had fallen across a far corner of the meadow, its trunk just visible over the rippling sea of color. Suddenly, an errant blade of sunlight sliced through the grey above, followed by another and another, until the entire area was bathed in its warm and rare glow. I ran into the center of the space and threw my arms out, twirling as I tilted my face towards the sky and laughed, delighting in the light.

"Edward," I cried, grinning at him where he stood still shaded by the trees, "how did you find this place? It's incredible!"

"I thought you would like it," he said, returning my smile and laughing at my childish antics. "I'm glad you do."

"I love it," I confirmed, glancing around as I struggled to catch my breath. And that's when it hit me.

Tall grass and wildflowers. A bronze haired boy, more beautiful than anything I'd ever seen. A feeling of rightness and peace so profound that everything else I had ever experienced paled in comparison.

"My dream," I whispered, dropping to my knees in shock. "My dream."

"What about your dream, Isabella?" Edward whispered into my ear, suddenly right by my side.

"We're in it."


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter Sixteen**

I was in shock. I had fulfilled my visions many times, grown used to the deja vu which came with seeing the important things ahead of time, but _this_ vision, my vision of the meadow... it had become a myth to me. It was something to remember on bad days, to comfort myself with when I was miserable. The idea that I could just _be_ with Edward here, knowing him, experiencing him... it was a lot to take in.

So we sat next to each other in the tall grass, not saying anything as we were wont to do. The sun had retreated behind the clouds again, but it didn't matter. The space was still beautiful, perfect, made more so by the enigmatic man sitting beside me.

"What are you thinking about?" Edward asked me shyly, breaking the silence.

"That really does bother you, doesn't it? The not knowing?"

"You have no idea," he admitted, shaking his head.

"Well, I like it. It makes me feel mysterious," I said wryly.

"As though you weren't mysterious enough already."

"Psh," I scoffed indelicately. "Like you're one to talk, Mr. We'll-Talk-About-It-Later."

He gave me a long searching look and dropped his head, his chin resting on his chest.

"I do not want you to run away," he said quietly.

"Who said anything about running? I didn't."

"You don't know-"

"So tell me," I insisted, lifting his chin and looking straight him straight in the eye. "Tell me and I'll know."

"You will not-"

"Stop it, Edward. Stop telling me how I'll react and let me decide for myself."

It was a battle of wills, him searching my face, me staring resolutely back at him. I recalled my dream from the night before and decided to bring it up, thinking that at worst, he would be offended and at best he would tell me it had been some abstract metaphor for something else. Either way...

"I had a dream about you. Did you know that?" I asked, squaring my shoulders.

"What sort of dream?" he hedged, looking away.

"It was a strange one. It was nighttime and you were in the woods."

"Was I?"

"You were sitting on a rock, running your fingers through your hair like you're doing right now."

He stopped the action so abruptly that I almost started laughing.

"Anyway, you were sitting there and then this... animal... wandered by and you..."

"I what?" he asked flatly, his expression almost daring me to continue.

"You..."

"I what?" he repeated. "You can't say it, can you, Isabella?" he all but mocked, his eyes dark.

And he wasn't wrong. I couldn't say it. It was one thing to think it, to journal it, to consider it... it was an entirely different thing to say it out loud for the world to hear. For _me_ to hear.

"That's what I thought," he said, moving to stand.

"Edward, wait!"

I reached for his wrist but grabbed nothing but air. I stood and looked around frantically, but he was nowhere. It was as though he had never existed.

"Edward!" I yelled spinning around, looking squinting into the tree line. "Edward come back!"

And then he was there again, standing right in front of me, his sudden appearance making me jump.

"Edward," I gasped, my hand on my chest. "Don't do that again!"

"Do what?" he asked dispassionately. "This?"

He was gone again, leaving nothing but a breeze in his wake. I froze, concentrating on my surroundings, trying to figure out where he kept going, how he was doing it. A flash of bronze on my periphery caught my attention, and I focused on it, noticing it again and again.

"Are you... are you running?" I asked, unable to keep the shock from my voice. "Is that what you're doing?"

And he was before me once more, his eyes almost black, his hair more disheveled than I'd ever seen it before.

"What's going on?" I demanded. "Why are you doing this? Are you deliberately trying to scare me?"

"_Trying_ to scare you? You think I'd have to _try_?" he sneered.

I took a step back, bewildered. This wasn't him. This sneering, scowling, angry young man was not the Edward I knew.

"Stop it," I hissed at him, my fists balling in frustration. "Stop this right now. You're acting like a child."

"Oh, I'm no child, Isabella," he laughed darkly. "If anyone's a child here, it's you. Why don't you run on home now?"

"That dream was real, wasn't it? It was a vision, just like everything else..."

"Go home."

"It was real and you're scared that I'll reject you or something. You're terrified right now."

"Terrified?" he roared, disappearing only to reappear by the fallen tree. "I'll show you terrified."

There was a loud crack and suddenly the trunk was split in half. I watched, shocked and amazed, as Edward lifted both halves, one in each hand, above his head and threw them into the tree line as though they weighed nothing.

"Are you still here?" he yelled, turning back to me and stalking towards me slowly, deliberately. "Do you have no sense of self-preservation at all?"

"I guess not," I answered calmly, refusing to let him see me sweat. He was testing me, whether he realized it or not, and I would not fail. "Do you?"

"Do I what" he sneered, coming to a stop in front of me.

"Have any sense of self-preservation? It doesn't seem like it right now."

"And what is that supposed to mean?"

"It means that if you continue to act like a child I will walk away right now and never come back. I will cut you out of my life and never speak to you again. So I'll ask you again, Edward. Do you?"

He quailed a bit, flinching for an instant before schooling his features back to indifference.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he said, but the anger wasn't there anymore.

"You do," I replied calmly, mentally high-fiving myself for managing to put even the slightest chink in his armor.

He didn't say anything. He seemed frozen in place, his eyes dropping down to the ground as though unable to bear looking at me any longer.

"Fine," I said smoothly, pretending not to care when in reality I was slowly dying inside. "I enjoyed spending the day with you, Edward, and I thank you for showing me this place, but it is late and I am tired, so I'm going home now. You have a nice life. Call me if and when you decide to grow up."

And without so much as a glance back in his direction, I took off into the trees, picking my way carefully along the trail we had taken and waiting until my house was in sight before I burst into tears.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter Seventeen**

Everywhere I looked was a reminder of him. I ran straight up to my room, planning on throwing myself into homework and never looking back, but, from the moment I crossed the threshold, I saw him _everywhere_. I sat down on my bed but got right back up again when I remembered how _he_ had looked there, holding me and talking. I dragged my backpack to my desk, but couldn't bring myself to actually sit there, thinking only of the way he had occupied my chair so casually, had confided in me so selflessly.

Well, maybe not selflessly. There was still a great deal I didn't know, a great deal that I felt I _deserved_ to know. Like why being away from him was so physically uncomfortable. Like how he _really_ felt about me. Like what in the hell my dream meant...

Edward Cullen is such an asshole.

What was that tantrum in the woods supposed to prove to me? That he was big and strong and fast? Alice had moved too quickly in front of me several times. I may not have known the full extent of their abilities, but I had certainly known enough to realize that they were different. Very different. And then I bring up a dream, a vision that I was powerless to stop, and Edward freaks out?

I retrieved a sheet of blank paper from my bag and uncapped a pen, draping myself gracelessly across the floor of my bedroom. I was going to make a list.

_fast_

_strong_

But was the strength thing just Edward? Alice had never exhibited any super strength with me... though she did hug me a little too tightly sometimes... and there was her admittance that she tries not to sit on furniture because she _breaks_ it. Yeah... Alice was probably strong, too.

_Beautiful_

_pale_

_cold skin_

The cold skin thing had never bothered me, though. I mean, I'd never really thought about it, I guess, but it just seemed so integral a part of... who they are. I liked the feeling of Edward's hands, regardless of the temperature, but it occurred to me that part of the reason Mike Newton's touch had squicked me so much was because of the temperature. They had been hot and a little sweaty and just... wrong.

_drinks__eats__drinks animal__ strange eating habits_

_strange eyes_

A door slammed downstairs and I jumped about a foot. Charlie was home.

I scrambled to my feet, grateful for the distraction, and bounded downstairs, meeting my father in the living room.

My father. Huh. I didn't think of him in those terms that often. Maybe my reality was shifting.

"Hey, Bells," he said, patting me on my shoulder. "How was your day? Anything interesting happen?"

"Ummmm... not really," I lied, smacking my forehead when I realized just how much of the day I had lost to dealing with Edward and thinking about Edward. "I'm so sorry, Dad. I didn't realize what time it was. I'll go get started on dinner now."

"Don't worry about it, kid. Why don't we order a pizza?"

Pizza. Charlie's solution to every problem.

"Sounds great, Dad. You want me to call it in?"

"I think I can handle it. Go finish up your homework, and maybe we can watch a movie with dinner."

It was the best idea I'd heard all night.

Dragging myself back up to my room, I mentally ticked through my classes, trying to think of anything that needed to be done, laughing when I realized that, unless I wanted to get even further ahead than I already was, I wouldn't have been able to find anything to distract me earlier anyway. Sometimes, I supposed there were advantages to being a nerd.

Finally reaching my room, I walked inside, took one look around, and walked right back downstairs.

"You good, Bella bear?" Charlie asked, dropping onto his favorite chair in the living room.

"Everything's done," I replied, settling myself on the worn sofa. Somehow, in a very short period of time, this room felt like home to me.

"Great. What d'you wanna watch?"

"Your pick," I said, smiling as I watched my father flip through channel after channel, completely ignoring the digital menu that would have just_ told_ him what was on.

He settled on a "Seinfeld" rerun, much to my surprise, and we watched for about twenty minutes as Elaine extolled the virtues of the "big salad." It was comfortable and nice and something I wouldn't mind doing more often.

"We should hang out more," I said idly during a commercial break. Charlie looked over at me in shock.

"I'd really like that, Bells," he replied, smiling.

"Me, too."

A knock at the door interrupted our love-fest, and I jumped up before Charlie could.

"I'll get it," I offered, taking the cash Charlie handed me and heading for the door. The pizza delivery guy looked familiar and I wondered if he went to my school.

"Isabella, right?" he asked after reading me my total and handing over the pie.

"Yeah."

"I'm Chris," he said, smiling and offering me his hand.

"Nice to meet you," I replied, holding up the pizza box to explain why I wasn't offering my hand in return.

"Sorry," he laughed, nodding at the box. "Anyway, you go to Forks High, right?"

"I do," I confirmed, glancing back over my shoulder. I didn't know what this guy wanted, but I was hoping Charlie would interrupt us before I found out.

"Yeah, I'm a senior there," he continued, puffing out his chest a bit and adjusting the cap on his head.

"Junior," I returned.

"I know," he smiled, shaking his head. "You're big news around here."

"Huh."

"Have you gotten to see much of the town?"

"Is there really that much to see?" I countered, flinching when I realized that it sounded like I was flirting.

"Nah, not really," he smiled wider. "But there's Port Angeles, plenty of stuff to do up there. I could show you around some time. You know, since you're new and all."

"Bells?" Charlie called from the living room, and I turned towards his voice to mask my relieved smile.

"Coming, Dad!" I yelled before turning back to... shit... what was his name? "Look, it was really nice meeting you. Maybe I'll see you around school."

"You can count on it, Isabella. You have a nice night, now," he said, winking.

I cringed and closed the door before he'd even turned to walk away.

"Everything alright, Bella? What took so long?" Charlie grunted, his eyes fixed to whatever was happening on the television screen.

"Everything's fine. The delivery guy goes to my school... he was just making small talk. I'm gonna grab a Coke. You want anything?" I asked, dropping the pizza on the coffee table before heading into the kitchen.

"I'm good," he replied, holding up his beer.

I grabbed a drink out of the fridge and scared up some napkins and paper plates. Back in the living room, I filled Charlie's plate with greasy, cheesy goodness before doing the same for myself and sinking back into the couch.

"What're we watching?" I asked through a mouthful of pepperoni.

"Some movie," he answered, nodding towards the screen. "It just started."

I settled back to watch, wondering what I would be stuck with for the next two hours, smiling as a young Brad Pitt filled the screen, followed by an equally young Christian Slater. It all looked terribly familiar. I was sure I'd seen this before.

"Can I see the remote for a second?" I asked, reaching blindly towards Charlie's chair and accepting the block of plastic into my hand. By the time I pressed the info button to learn the title of the film, Brad had moved too quickly to a light switch and back, scaring Christian Slater and illuminating a very pale face with very inhuman eyes. My hand was shaking.

_Interview with the Vampire_.

I dropped the remote on the floor, but Charlie didn't seem to notice.

"You seen this before, Bells?" he asked, his eyes never leaving the screen.

"Mom loves this movie," I replied, riveted as the film played out, feeling like something terribly important was about to happen. "I think you'll like it."

[][][][][][][][][][][][][][][]

By the time the credits rolled, I felt like I'd run a marathon. Charlie was asleep beside me, snoring away on his recliner, but I was wide awake, my breath coming in pants and my skin damp with sweat.

It was all too familiar. Every person bitten in the film brought me back to my dream in the woods, to Edward's form in the dark as he took down that animal. This shouldn't be right. It _couldn't_ be right. But it... was. I was sure of it.

Edward Cullen was a vampire.

I felt like an idiot.

Somehow the truth was easier to take in drips and drops. It was easy to shrug off the sight of him attacking that animal. Well, not easy, but... justifiable? I now lived in a state with an alarming amount of hunters. Was what I had seen him doing any different than that? I ate meat on a daily basis. Could I fault him for... well, he hadn't been tucking into a cheeseburger or anything, but I could still draw a parallel, as bizarre as it was.

I was reluctant to think about what he _could_ be eating. Every bleeding person in that movie had sent chills down my spine. The idea of him doing to another human being what he did to that mountain lion was... too terrible for words. But in the movie, Louis was able to survive off of animal blood. Was that was Edward was doing? And what about Alice and the rest of his family? Surely they were all the same, but... it was too much to consider. Too much for now.

My chest felt constricted, that ever-present anxious feeling multiplying within me. I needed a change of scenery, needed to get away from the damn television. I secured a flannel blanket around him, smiling as I watched his mustache twitch with every snore, and switched off the television before feeling my way up the dark stairs.

In my room, I turned on the lamp next to my bed and grabbed a pillow, spreading out across my desk and resting my forehead on the glass of the window, gazing into the night outside.

"What's happening to me?" I whispered into the dark, my breath fogging up the glass. "Am I going crazy?"

A sudden vibration in my pocket startled me, and I laughed quietly at myself as I reached into my jeans and pulled out my iPhone to find I had a text message. From Edward.

_You're not crazy, Isabella_.

I shot upright, glancing frantically around my room only to find it empty. Confused, I turned back to the window, my eyes suddenly drawn to the tree in front of my window, swaying in the breeze. Crawling onto my knees, I flicked the latch on top of the pane and force the glass upwards, feeling the cool night air wash over me.

I leaned forward, sticking my head outside, looking down until I saw the grass directly below me... but there was nothing. No one. I wondered where this feeling was coming from. My chest began to ache. Something was happening. He was here. I _knew_ he was here.

I squinted into the woods, looking for any sign of movement. The trees were stock still for once, with nary a branch moving... but the tree by my window was still swaying. I leaned further out, lying across the desk for support and moving until the majority of my torso was dangling in mid-air. I waited to feel the breeze that was manipulating my tree, but nothing came. The night was still as death. I shuddered at my own analogy.

"I really _am_ crazy," I muttered, wrapping my fingers around the window sill and pushing myself back inside.

"You're not, Isabella," a voice murmured from in front of me, the voice I had been waiting to hear.

I glanced up suddenly, gasping as I was presented with the very real face of Edward Cullen, his pale, perfect features bathed in the weak moonlight.

"You're not crazy, Isabella," he repeated, reaching one long, elegant finger out to stroke my cheek. "I am."

I backed away from the window, scrambling back across my desk in order to give him space to enter. He seemed to understand my intentions, because in an instant he was there, moving too easily into my room and walking to stand before me.

"I apologize, Isabella, both for my behavior earlier and my intrusion now, but I found I simply could not stay away."

"You told me you wouldn't," I whispered. "You told me you _wouldn't_ stay away."

"It seems I am destined to disappoint you," he replied ruefully, running a hand through his hair.

"That's an excuse if ever there was one," I spat, my voice lacking the venom the comment required. "Why did you come to me if only to disappoint? Why do you constantly seek me out if only to confuse me?"

"Alice told me you came to a realization tonight," he said, ignoring my questions.

"I did," I frowned, "on a couch in the living room, sitting next to my father. Does that seem fair to you?"

"I do not know what is fair anymore."

"Then perhaps you should leave me alone."

"Perhaps I should," he agreed quietly. "I do not think I can."

I turned away from him, moving to sit at the foot of my bed, my legs dangling off the side.

"Why are you here?" I asked finally, bringing my hands to my hair to begin dismantling Alice's elaborate hairstyle.

"She said you came to a realization," he repeated.

"And this involves you how?" I questioned coolly, removing the bobby pins and dropping them into my lap.

"Why are you behaving in this way, Isabella? You know exactly how it involves me."

"Do you think my behavior childish?" I asked, combing out my wavy tresses with my fingers, feeling around for stray pins. "I ran home, Edward. Just as you told me to."

"I apologized-"

"Oh, was that an apology before? I didn't realize. I was too focused on you watching me through my window, you deciding that you had the right to look at me without my consent."

"It wasn't... I-"

"You what, Edward? Should I be flattered? Should I be thrilled that you climbed _my_ tree and looked through _my_ window and listened as I talked to myself? What if I was changing my clothes? What if I was with a boy?"

"A boy?" he growled, his eyes narrowing. "What _boy_?"

"Any boy," I bluffed. "I met a nice one this evening. A senior. He offered to show me around Port Angeles."

"You will not-"

"I will not what, Edward? Go on a date? Why ever not?"

"You are _mine_, do you understand me? _Mine_."

His eyes were hot, his fingers curling into fists. He was beautiful in his passion, his possession, his jealousy. He made me feel alive and wanted and complete. I hated him.

"Fuck you," I spat, tired of this game. I stomped across the floor, planting my palms solidly on his chest and pushing with all my strength. He didn't budge. "Why do you do this to me, Edward? _Why?_"

"_I _do this to _you_?" he snarled. "_You_ have done this! You with your beauty and your mind and your heart. You with your frailty. How can a dead man love a human, Isabella? How can a monster love an innocent?"

"You are only a monster if you paint yourself as one," I hissed, glaring at him. "I gave you so many chances, I _begged_ you to tell me, yet you continued to lie. And now... now I have to figure it out watching a damned _movie_? I have to rely on a farce to realize that you're a..."

"A what?" he asked, taking a step towards me, causing me to take a step back. "A _what?_ _Say it_."

I felt dizzy. I couldn't breathe.

"Say it, Isabella."

I looked at him, searching out his eyes in the dim room. His face was hard, impassive. His beautiful eyes were so _cold_. I knew it was a mask, the same mask he had donned in the meadow, but it hurt me all the same. _He_ hurt me all the same.

"Get out of my house." I planted my hands on his chest once more, pushing as though the world depended on it. "Get out of my house, vampire."

He stumbled backwards, but I knew it was not because of my strength.

"Isabella," he breathed, his facade slipping away to be replaced with... something. Something miserable and broken and so not Edward.

"I told you to leave," I said coldly, looking away from his pain, unable to bear it. "Do not make me tell you again."

He turned from me, moving slowly across the floor, approaching the window as a condemned man might approach his execution. Every step he took made me want to call him back, to apologize, to beg him to stay with me, but I bit my lip and help my tongue, wrapping my arms around my torso to keep them from reaching out to him instead.

As he climbed out of my room and into the night air, I felt my heart drop from my chest, watched it shatter at my feet into too many pieces to ever be completely whole again. Unable to stand a moment longer, I crumpled to the floor, my body wracked by sobs, my eyes burning with tears that would never fall.

I had pushed away the other half of my soul, I had denied him for the sake of pride and pettiness and vanity. I would never be the same again.

A pair of cool arms wrapped around my shaking body, a familiar sweet scent invading my senses.

"Do not fear, Isabella," Alice murmured into my hair, holding me tighter. "It will be well."


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter Eighteen**

"Did you see?" I asked Alice once the shaking had stopped, once I had regained control of my senses.

"I did," she replied quietly, stroking my back. "I'm sorry."

"What for?"

"Many things, Isabella. I am sorry that you are in so much pain, that my brother is such an ass, that my family is causing you this much distress... I'm just sorry."

"You could've told me," I muttered, shrugging her hands off my back and straightening up. "You _should _have told me."

"I thought it would be best if he-"

"If he what, Alice? If he embraced me one moment only to push me away the next? If he encouraged me to be honest and then did his level best to terrify me? You are my _friend_, Alice. At least that's what you tell me."

She couldn't have looked more shocked if I'd punched her in the face. I couldn't help but be amused at the fact that I had managed to surprise a psychic.

"Sit down, Isabella," she said quietly, gesturing to my bed.

I sat on my desk instead, crossing my arms and embracing the anger and annoyance that was crashing over me in waves. Anger I could handle. Anger was easier than loss.

"You know what we are," Alice said simply. It was not a question.

"Yes," I confirmed.

"Does that bother you? What we are?" she clarified.

"Not as much as it should," I admitted, dropping my eyes.

"Are you aware of our diet?"

"I have a hunch," I hedged, biting my lip and remembering, for the millionth time, that damn dream.

"We do not feed on humans."

"That's good," I replied coolly while inside I was sighing in relief.

"We still require blood to survive."

"Charlie requires steak and Pabst Blue Ribbon to survive. What's your point?"

"I do not understand why you are pretending this does not bother you, Bella."

"I didn't say it doesn't bother me. I just don't care right now."

"And why is that?"

"Because it doesn't fucking matter!" I screamed, clapping my hand over my mouth when I remembered the lateness of the hour and the presence of my father in the house. I listened hard for a full moment before continuing in a lower voice. "It doesn't matter."

"I don't understand."

"Yeah? Well, welcome to my world, Alice."

"We are vampires."

"Interesting. I'm a virgo."

"Isabella," Alice finally snapped, "if my presence bothers you so much, I can go."

"Don't let me stop you," I snarked, squaring my shoulders.

She looked at me, long and hard. It took every ounce of self-determination I had to hold her gaze, but it finally became too much and I looked away. She seemed to soften the moment my eyes dropped.

"Isabella," she said quietly, crouching down in front of me, "this isn't you."

"How would you know?" I asked without malice. I was trying hard to maintain my hold on the anger, but it was slipping through my fingers like sand.

"I may not know everything about you, Isabella Swan, but I know your soul."

A breeze kicked up outside my window, rustling the leaves of my tree and making me shiver as an extra gust of cold, damp air washed over me.

"Please talk to me," she implored, her eyes wide, her expression caring.

I couldn't help it. Alice is a difficult person to stay mad at.

"I lost him," I whispered, drawing my knees to my chest and wrapping my arms around him. "He was everything and I lost him."

"You didn't lose anyone," she assured me.

"I don't want to want him this much. It isn't fair. I don't know what's wrong with me or what's wrong with him or... I shouldn't need another person this much. I feel like my heart is missing, like my lungs are gone. How am I supposed to function? This isn't normal, Alice. I'm not this girl. I left Mark without a second thought, and now I'm... Two weeks, Alice. Two weeks and I feel like I'll die without him. What's wrong with me?"

"Nothing, Isabella. You need to understand that none of this is your fault."

"But it _is_. They're _my_ thoughts, _my_ feelings. It's _my_ stupid brain that obsesses over him. _My _ words sent him away..."

"He needed to be sent away, honey. He was being unreasonable. I'm proud of you for standing up for yourself. I know how difficult that must have been."

"But he's never going to come back..."

"He will."

The wind was howling now, pushing its way in through the window and crashing forcefully against my back. It was comforting in a very real way, knowing that the outside world was just as chaotic at that moment as my head.

"I don't want him to. I don't want to want him anymore," I whispered into the dark. Just saying those words made my chest hurt.

"I should have told you myself," Alice said, bowing her head in contrition. "I could have spared you all of this pain. I am truly sorry, Isabella."

All of this pain. A leaf blew in, tangling itself in my hair. The wind was screaming now. I could feel the house shuddering around me at the onslaught.

"I'm tired," I said quietly, rising slowly from my perch on the desk. "I'm going to go to bed now."

"Well, goodnight, then, Isabel-"

"Would you stay?" I asked, cutting her off. "Would you stay with me tonight?"

"I'd be happy to," she replied warmly, walking over to my rocking chair and arranging herself carefully into the seat.

Without a word, I donned a set of warm, flannel pajamas and crawled into my bed, drawing the covers up to my chin before nodding soundlessly to the empty space next to me.

"Was that an invitation?" Alice asked cheekily.

I smiled weakly and nodded in reply.

"Why Isabella," she grinned, "I didn't know I was your type."

Before I could blink, she was in the bed next to me, kicking off her boots and stretching out on top of the covers.

"I truly am sorry," she said quietly, moving a piece of hair from my face.

I shook my head, burrowing deeper under the covers.

"Sleep well, Isabella," Alice whispered, setting her head on the pillow. "I promise you it will get better."

[][][][][][][][][][][][][][]

I dreamed about Edward packing a bag. He was zooming about his room, grabbing his belongings and shoveling them haphazardly into a set of large, expensive-looking suitcases. His books and records went into boxes; his stereo equipment was carefully covered. He was leaving.

"Where are you going?" a female voice asked.

"Away," he replied shortly, zipping up a duffle bag only to have it rip apart in his hands. "Fuck!"

"You never swear," the voice said wryly.

"Whatever," Edward muttered, trying to force the items from the now-ruined bag into an already full rolling bag.

"You're acting like a teenager."

"Fuck off, Rose," he snarled, quaking in anger as another piece of luggage was accidentally sacrificed to his grip.

"I'd love to," Rosalie snapped, striding into the room and settling gracefully on the couch, "but my husband asked me to speak with you."

"Yeah, well, we spoke."

"Jesus, Edward, get a grip. She's just a little girl."

"Do not _ever _speak of her to me!" Edward roared, turning on his sister. "You have no right!"

"_I_ have no right?" Rosalie seethed. "You're the one destroying your family over a human child!"

"Enough!" said yet another voice, male this time. I watched as the figure of Carlisle stormed into the room. "I will not have this sort of animosity under my roof!"

"Then tell _her_ to leave," Edward spat, jabbing his finger at Rosalie.

"Why should _I_ leave when _you're_ already packed?" she asked, gesturing to the pile of luggage and boxes obscuring the bulk of Edward's floor.

"Rosalie-"

"No! I have watched for years as his selfishness wrecked our family! I've listened to him bitch and moan about his wretched existence for decades, and now he finally has the chance to complete his bond and he _leaves_? I don't give a shit about what you do, Edward. I could care less if you want to go and destroy your life, but don't you _dare_ drag your misery into mine! This is _my_ family, too, damn it, and I _will not_ let you ruin it!"

"Rosalie! That's enough!" Carlisle admonished, shock marring his otherwise perfect features.

"It is, isn't it?" she asked cryptically before tossing her hair over her shoulder and stomping from the room.

"Edward, son, I-"

"I _have_ to go, Carlisle. Don't you understand? This is why! _This_," he said gesturing to the door that his sister had just exited through, "this is what my presence causes."

"You have lived with Rose for a long time, Edward. Do not tell me that you have not grown used to her... idiosyncrasies... by now."

"I've dragged you all down for far too long. While I did not enjoy the way she said it, I must acknowledge the truth behind Rosalie's words. You are all better off without me," Edward said somberly, slinging a bag over his shoulder.

"But what of Isabella?" Carlisle asked softly, his eyes wide and questioning. "What will happen to her when you leave?"

"It was she who asked me to go. She will be glad to be rid of me. She will live her life and be... happy."

"I suppose that is why Alice is with her now, holding her in her sleep because she cannot bear to be alone. Yes, this is clearly a mark of happiness."

Edward's entire demeanor changed with his father's words. The bag on his shoulder dropped to the floor with a heavy thud as his shoulders slumped and his spine curved. The mask of indifference he had been so carefully maintaining was gone, replaced by open remorse and pain.

"Alice is holding her in her sleep?" he asked, his voice cracking.

"She called not an hour ago to speak with Jasper. It seems Isabella asked her to stay with her. Alice said she's been tossing and turning all night. She was concerned."

"She told me to leave," Edward choked, his hands going straight for his hair. "Why would she be upset when _she_ told _me_ to leave?"

"Did you behave in any way that would precipitate such a request, Edward? Did you argue or upset her in any way?"

"I... she... Alice told me she knew about us, so I went over to find out... I had... earlier... I was not kind to her this afternoon. I intentionally tried to scare her... she demanded an apology and..."

"Why would you try to scare her, son? I'm confused."

"She doesn't understand... I was trying to make her understand that... she shouldn't want me," he breathed, dropping to his knees with a thud. "She shouldn't want me, Carlisle. And now she doesn't."

"Stay, Edward, if only for one more day. Stay and try to speak to her."

"I can't... I don't know how..."

"You have been alone for so long, son. Relationships take time and patience. They require communication. The bond is already there, you know this. It would be such a waste to run from it now. It would be a tragedy."

"But she is so damned fragile... so _human_. I hardly know how to treat her, what to say... Carlisle, I'm lost."

"Then speak to her," he advised, placing a comforting hand on Edward's shoulder. "Let her be your beacon in the night, Edward. Let her guide you."

I woke up in a blind panic, wondering if what I had seen was of the future or the present.

"Don't worry, Isabella," Alice soothed from beside me, her fingers, cool and comforting, entwining with mine. "He's not going anywhere."

"How did you-?"

"I saw you wake up," she laughed, tapping her forehead before handing me the journal and pen she'd had ready and waiting in her lap. "Now right it all down and go back to sleep. You've got a few hours still before you have to wake up."

"Thank you, Alice," I murmured after my frantic scribbling was over with. "Thank you for everything."

"You're welcome, sister," she whispered, kissing my forehead. "Sweet dreams."

**A/N: It has come to my attention that my fabulous beta, IssaBissa, has an anniversary tomorrow. I hope you will all join me in wishing her a WONDERFUL anniversary, and thanking her for her dedication and support of this story. In spite of our frequent disagreements on the value of the sentence fragment, she catches my typos and generously reads version after version of chapters, most of which never see the light of day. Thank you so much for not dropping me like a bad habit, IssaBissa, and happy anniversary!**

**BTW... Chapter Nineteen is written and AMAZING!**


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter Nineteen**

I stayed home from school. I told Charlie I felt sick and he believed me without question. I only felt mildly guilty.

Alice stayed with me the whole time, arranging and rearranging my closet and playing with my hair like I was her own living Barbie doll. We didn't talk about vampires or dreams or... anything, really. It was nice. Until it wasn't.

By two o'clock, I'd had enough. I couldn't take the pretending any longer, and the anxiety bubbled out from me like word vomit.

"Did he leave?" I asked casually, carefully inspecting the royal blue polish we'd just applied to my nails.

"No," Alice said, painting her own nails pink to match her dress.

"Oh. Where is he, then?"

"He went to school with the others."

"Oh."

"Yep."

Three o'clock found us in the living room with a romantic comedy and a bowl of popcorn.

"Do you think he was surprised when I wasn't there?" I blurted, picking up the conversation from an hour ago as I clicked through the DVD menu.

"I called them this morning while you were talking to Charlie. Everyone knew you weren't going in today."

"Oh," I sighed, leaning back into the pillows. I didn't know why I was disappointed, but I was.

"Did you want to talk about this, Bella? It's alright if you do, you know."

"I don't," I said quickly. "I mean, why would I? What's done is done, right?"

"But your dream about him-"

"I don't want to talk about it. I mean, if he was willing to just walk away without so much as a 'goodbye'-"

"Great. So we're not talking about it, then?"

"Obviously not," I huffed, rolling my eyes. "If he wants to just go, then-"

"He doesn't know what he wants. You have to understand, Isabella, that it is very difficult for vampires to change. Ever. Edward has been the way he is for a century. He's a brooder and a drama queen, always has been and always will."

"He's a child," I snarked, "no matter what his age."

"He's inexperienced," Alice corrected. "Edward has not been in a true relationship since he was human, and those memories are fuzzy and indistinct at best. He does not know how to communicate with new people. Hell, he barely speaks to us and we're his _family_. He needs time, Bella. Time and patience."

"He needs a slap in the face."

"That, too," she giggled, nudging me with her shoulder.

We watched the movie. Well, we looked at the screen together. The characters were running around New York, trying to find each other. It was a modern film set in modern day Manhattan, and it apparently didn't occur to either of them to pull out a cell phone and call to see where the alleged love of their life was. It was ridiculous. I used to like romantic movies...

"Will he come today?" I asked finally. I had been thinking it for hours. I had been congratulating myself on the unflappable concentration I had maintained in order to keep those four words in. I guess I'm just not as strong as I thought I was.

"Yes," Alice said simply.

"Will he want to?"

"He always wants to be around you, Bella. He just doesn't understand how to do it without making an ass of himself."

We pretended to watch the movie some more until, an hour later, the credits started rolling and there was nothing left to look at.

I said goodbye to Alice, thanking her for spending so much time with me, for taking care of me. I watched her leave through the front door this time. I wandered into the kitchen, rifling through cabinets for something to start making for dinner, only to remember that I was supposed to go shopping today. We had boxed macaroni and cheese and a carton of eggs. Both sounded horrible. My stomach growled and I realized that all I had eaten all day was a half-bag of popcorn.

I texted Charlie, asking him to pick up some staples on the way home from the station. The house phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Bells. How you feelin', kiddo?"

"Better, Dad. Still a little shaky, but better."

"That's good. Look, I'm sorry to do this with you bein' sick and all, but I have to work late tonight. There's some sort of problem out in La Push, and Billy's asked me to come take a look."

"You're allowed to investigate crimes on the Rez?"

"It's more of a favor, really. I'm really sorry, Bella bear. He asked and I said yes before I thought about it. I can call him back and cancel, though."

"No no no... don't worry about it. It's fine, Dad."

"But you just told me there's nothing for dinner-"

"I was exaggerating. Really, it's fine. There's some stuff here or I could always drive out to McDonald's or something. No worries."

"Are you sure, Bells? I don't want to-"

"I'm sure, Dad. Tell Billy I said hi."

"Will do. Thanks for understanding, kid. Hope you feel better."

[][][][][][][][][][][][][][][]

Two hours later, I made the mac and cheese, took one bite of it, and dumped it in the trash. I didn't feel right. _Nothing_ felt right. Or tasted right. Or looked right. Or sounded...

The ache in my chest was becoming unbearable. I felt empty, like someone had dug a hole in my chest and walked away without filling it in again. When I was young enough for my mother to actually speak to me, she would always offer the same speech as we made our escape from one town to the next.

"Hearts are like a block of wood, Isabella. When you love someone and they leave, they hollow out a chunk of that block and take it with them. At first it hurts, missing that piece of your heart, but eventually it turns out to be a blessing because you know what?" she'd ask expectantly.

"What?" I'd pipe in, right on cue.

"The hollower your heart is, the more space you have to fill it with love," she'd finish triumphantly, her mouth set in a firm line.

I think she was trying to convince herself more than me.

A few years later, I realized that she had stolen that speech from a movie.

[][][][][][][][][][][][][][][]

Around eight o'clock, the house phone rang again.

"Bells?"

"Yeah, Dad."

"How you feeling?"

"I'm fine."

"Did you eat?"

"Yeah."

It was a lie.

"Good. Anyway, I'm gonna stay out here for the night. It looks like this is going to take a while yet, so Billy's offered me his couch."

"That's fine, Dad. I'll be fine alone."

"No, you won't. You've been sick all day, and I don't like you being home alone anyway, so I called Dr. Cullen and he agreed to let you spend the night over there."

"_What_?"

"He was happy to help, Bells. Said you and Alice could have a sleepover."

"Dad, this is ridiculous. In Arizona I practically lived by myself. There's no reason to-"

"How you lived with your mother has nothing to do with how you live when you're with me. Forks is a small town, but it's still full of people and people are dangerous. We can talk about this again sometime, but for tonight, you're going over to the Cullens. Alice should be by shortly to pick you up."

On cue, a horn honked out front.

"She's here, Dad," I said wryly.

"That girl doesn't waste any time, does she?" he chuckled, unaware of the nervous breakdown I was having on the other end of the phone.

"Look, Dad, I appreciate your concern, but-"

"No buts, Bells. Go upstairs and pack a bag. You can go to school straight from their house tomorrow. You sleep well, kiddo."

"Yeah, Dad. You, too."

I hung up the phone and turned around. Alice was standing directly behind me.

"Could you _not_ do that?" I snapped, clutching my chest with my hand. "What is it with your family and scaring me?"

"Sleepover!" she squealed, apparently uncaring of the cardiac arrest her sudden appearance had initiated.

It was going to be a long night.

[][][][][][][][][][][][][]

"Alice, will you _please_ slow down?" I begged for the millionth time, my fingernails digging into the leather seat of her ridiculous yellow sports car.

"I'm sorry, Isabella, but I can't hear you over the purr of my baby," Alice trilled, patting her dashboard fondly.

"Pixie psychopath," I muttered under my breath, checking my seatbelt again.

"I heard that," she admonished.

"What selective hearing you have."

"The better to annoy you with, my dear," she laughed, barely slowing as she made the sharp left onto her family's property. "Honey, we're home!" she sang out as she parked.

"_You're_ home," I groused. "_I _was home ten minutes ago."

"Can't hear you," Alice called as she lifted my overnight bag from the trunk. "Now get in that house, young lady, or I'll ground you for a week."

"Who are you and what have you done with Alice?"

"She's locked in a trunk in my bedroom. Now scoot. I've never had a sleepover before and you will _not _ruin this for me."

"Alice, you slept over last night!" I protested, shaking my head and following her up the steps to her front door.

"That didn't count," she argued. "You were being all angsty and stuff."

"Whatever."

She pushed open the walnut doors and I was met with a photo spread from architectural digest. The Cullen home was stylish and modern and warm all at once. It felt too beautiful to be real and entirely lived in at the same time. My eyes darted around wildly as I attempted to take everything in, but there was just too much to look at. My brief visit to this house before had clearly not done it justice in my memory.

"Isabella! Oh, my dear, it is so very nice to meet you. I'm Esme Cullen."

I looked up to see the most beautiful of the Cullen women. She was tall and graceful, with flowing butterscotch hair and fine features. Her eyes were wide and expressive, as was her smile, and her face radiated a sort of maternal warmth that I hadn't experienced in... well, ever.

"Thank you for having me," I said quietly, suddenly deeply shy in the presence of this woman.

"Our home is your home, Isabella. You are welcome here any time, I mean that."

"Thank you, Mrs. Cullen."

"Esme, dear."

"Esme."

Before I knew it, I was wrapped up in the most soothing arms I'd ever experienced. Alice's arms felt like affection and acceptance. Edward's arms felt like worship and fate. Esme's arms felt like... home? Startled, I blinked back tears that had no business being in my eyes and returned her embrace weakly. I knew nothing about this woman, really, but I felt like she had become a part of my life already. It was unnerving at best.

"Now, Alice told us that you've not eaten all day. Come into the kitchen, dear. I think we can fix that," Esme told me, taking my hand and guiding me into the most lavish kitchen I had ever seen.

The room was easily the width of my kitchen and living room combined, with soft grey walls and white, minimalist flat-fronted cabinets. An enormous stainless steel refrigerator occupied one corner, with a double oven right next to it. The stove was flat black glass with a modern stainless steel hood, and a large tiger orchid in a beautiful black, glass pot took up residence on the far corner of the countertop. Bisecting the room was a gleaming white island with grey leather barstools spaced evenly across the front. It was to one of those stools that Esme led me.

"You have many options," Esme began, fussing about the kitchen and retrieving dishes that I hadn't even noticed. Suddenly, the countertop in front of me was full, heaving with family-sized portions of lasagna, salad, sushi, roasted chicken, some sort of fish, and something that looked like... beef wellington?

"I thought that... why do you...?"

"We play human, Bella," Alice explained from the corner, understanding my confusion. "We go grocery shopping every week. If we didn't people might talk."

"Oh," I said lamely, distracted by the ridiculous options in front of me, all of which smelled amazing. "But how did you know how to-"

"I like to cook," Esme explained, shyly. "It's a hobby of mine, something I vaguely remember enjoying in my past. Ordinarily, my creations go to the local homeless shelter, but I must admit that I got a bit over-excited when Alice foresaw your visit tonight."

"Esme, this all looks amazing," I assured her, still in awe. "I cannot thank you enough, but I'm afraid there's just too much here for me to eat. There's no possible way-"

"No worries," Alice piped up, shrugging, "anything you don't eat you can take home to Charlie or we can leave at the shelter."

"Just take what you like, dear," Esme confirmed with a smile.

Shaking my head, more than a little daunted by the feast in front of me, I reached for the platter of beef wellington and dug in.

[][][][][][][][][][][][][][]

Alice was a master distracter. She had been great at keeping me occupied this morning, but that had been nothing compared to seeing Alice in her native habitat, seeing Alice with her family. I played Xbox with Emmett, who taught me the finer points of Halo Reach, I had a prolonged and fascinating conversation with Carlisle about the origins of vampirism, and I was on the receiving end of a facial and mud pack in Alice's palatial bathroom. I got the feeling that every part of my night had been carefully orchestrated by Alice prior to my arrival, but I didn't really care. I couldn't sense Edward within the house, and it was nice to get a chance to bond with his family without the emotional trauma of the night before hanging over me.

Around midnight, I began yawning with such frequency that I couldn't ignore it anymore, and so Alice and Esme led me up to the third floor to a loft space I hadn't even realized existed.

"This is incredible," I breathed in awe, taking in the open, airy space. There were windows everywhere, some encompassing entire walls, and they opened into the gorgeous trees that surrounded the Cullen's property. The floors were a warm hardwood with thick, fluffy rugs scattered throughout in a pattern that seemed arbitrary but probably wasn't. There was a low sage green couch bookended by two wide taupe chairs, all over-stuffed and giving the appearance of being obscenely comfortable. The wall one wall with no windows was covered in bookshelves which were, in turn, filled with books, a natural stone fireplace set into the center of the wall.

"Whose room is this?" I asked curiously, running my fingers along the spines of the books, jealous of whoever got to occupy this incredible space.

"Yours," Esme replied simply, smiling at the shock I exhibited at her response.

"Mine? This can't be mine."

"Don't be silly, Bella bear," Alice giggled twirling around the furniture. "You're family. How many times do I have to tell you that?"

"Alice, I _have_ a house... I have a room..." I looked around again, still trying to take it all in. The bed was enormous, with a wrought-iron frame that looked remarkably similar to... I gasped.

"Esme designed your attic room, too, Isabella, or did you forget?" Alice tsked, shaking her head. "You should really pay better attention to your father when he speaks to you."

"But-"

"I wanted you to be comfortable here, honey. You may not reciprocate our feelings yet, but we truly do see you as family. All of my children have their own space in our home. Why should you be any different?" Esme asked warmly, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"I can't accept this," I said frantically, dropping heavily into one of the sinfully comfortable chairs. "This is too much!"

"Well it's not like you're picking up the room and walking away, Isabella," Alice said laughing. "Quit being ridiculous."

"I'm not being-"

"What did we say about gifts?" Alice asked quietly, glancing significantly over to a clearly crestfallen Esme. Oh no...! Had I hurt her feelings?

"Esme," I hastened, walking over and drawing her into a tentative hug, "I cannot thank you enough. Both for this room and my attic."

"Oh, Isabella," Esme sniffed, dropping her chin onto my head and returning my embrace, "welcome to the family."

They showed me some of the finer points of the room before taking their leave and wishing me sweet dreams. There was a bathroom hidden behind one of the bookcases, a feature which actually delighted me to no end, and a gallery railing hidden by a gorgeous floral tapestry which, when pulled back, revealed a two story drop overlooking a grand piano below. From the driveway, the house had seemed grand enough, but once inside, it occurred to me that there were more rooms in this home than seemed structurally possible for all of its openness. I felt like I was in some sort of fairy tale, surrounded by benevolent sprites and fairies that refused to allow life to be anything but fantastic. It was all so incredible... and unsettling.

I rifled through my bag and retrieved my pajamas, relieved to find that Alice hadn't switched them out for something lacy or mesh or something. Piling my hair on top of my head in a messy bun, I pushed on the second bookcase to the right, as instructed, and accessed my cute little bathroom, eyeing the garden tub with some interest but realizing I was so exhausted I'd probably fall asleep. I brushed my teeth and washed my face, drying it with what had to be the most expensive hand towel ever created, and taking one last longing look at the tub before dragging myself back into "my" room.

My room.

This was so fucked up.

I didn't know how to deal with these people... vampires... people... which was the correct term? Each one of the Cullens was incredible, welcoming me in their own way, well, except for Rosalie who'd examined her nails during the whole of my time with Emmett, and treating me as though I was, indeed, one of them. But I wasn't. Not really. I am not a vampire. Shouldn't that be a big deal to them? It seems to be one to Edward. And who are they to base their opinions on me and my future with their family on Alice's precognition? How long ago had they built me this room, and how was I _not_ supposed to be at least moderately wigged out by its existence?

I yawned, glancing wearily at the too-large bed that dominated the room. There was no way I was sleeping on that thing tonight, regardless of how incredibly soft and comfortable it looked. It was just too big, too much, one more reminder of how generous these people were and how ridiculous I felt in this situation. Sighing, I turned and looked at the couch instead, easily long enough to accommodate my body, and far more reasonable during a "sleepover." Couch it was, then.

I wandered around the room, flipping light switches and turning off lamps, casually examining the wall of books as I passed it, idly wondering if I could manage to build a fire in the fireplace without accidentally burning the entire house down, tripping over some sort of sheepskin rug which felt _amazing_ under my bare feet. Taking in every detail, flourish; it was clear that this room had indeed been designed for me. It was a more lavish version of my attic retreat, a space that Esme had clearly taken great pains with, and I worried once more that I had offended her with my reaction. It wasn't the room that bothered me, really... it wasn't even the expenditure, not that I thought about it. It was the generosity of the family... something that I did not feel I had earned yet.

The bulk of their knowledge of me came from Alice's visions of how I would be in the _future_. I was not a part of their family now, regardless of the growing warm fuzzies I felt for them, and it was disturbing to consider how absolutely they had offered themselves to me, how free they had been, and continued to be, with their hearts and their home. This family was comprised of, hands down, the most incredible human beings I had ever met. It didn't matter what their diet was or just how long they had been wandering the earth... it was their souls, their amazing humanity... I had no words.

I stretched out across the sofa, snuggling into the cashmere throw I'd found in the antique trunk at the foot of the bed and closing my eyes heavily. Too much had happened today. Too much had been learned, and even more had been avoided. Edward was still absent from the house, I was sure of it, and I had to wonder if it was my presence keeping him away. I didn't know what I wanted more... to see Edward and hash things out, or to pretend nothing had ever happened to begin with.

I fell into a fitful sleep, vaguely uncomfortable in my new surroundings, clutching at the growing ache in my chest, until, all at once, the ache was gone, replaced with the warm feeling I got whenever Edward was near. He had come home. I knew it without question. A piano began playing downstairs, a soft, delicate melody that spoke of hope and love and promise. Closing my eyes once more, a soft smile graced my lips as I listened to the music, grateful for its assurances.

Without thought, I spoke two words: "Goodnight, Edward," before drifting into a peaceful slumber.

[][][][][][][][][][][][][]

I woke with the sun, wiping the sleep from my eyes and looking around for a full minute before I remembered where I was. Of course, if I hadn't been able to guess by the opulence of the room, the boy seated in the chair closest to my head was a dead giveaway. No pun intended.

"Hello, Edward," I said without turning. "How are you this morning?"

See? I can behave like an adult.

"I am well," he said cordially. "I trust you slept well?"

"I did," I confirmed, sitting up and stretching, noting with more than a little smug satisfaction the fascinated look he was giving my torso from the corner of my eye. "You've seen me in my pajamas before, Edward," I scolded.

"I'm sorry. I did not mean to make you uncomfortable," he replied stiffly, his posture straightening so quickly that I couldn't help but glance over.

"You have a knack for apologizing for the wrong things."

"So I've been told."

When it became clear he wasn't about to say anything else, I rose from the sofa, which turned out to be more comfortable than I could have possibly hoped, and began moving about the room.

I folded the blanket I had slept under and returned it to the chest at the foot of the bed. I unpacked the remaining items from my overnight bag, laying them out across the bedspread and noting with more than a little chagrin that Alice had apparently replaced the clothes I had chosen for myself last night with something entirely different.

"Was there something you needed," I called over my shoulder, "Or did you come up here to watch me get dressed?"

I didn't see him flinch, but I felt it.

"Do you like your room?" he asked, ignoring my question. "This is my first time up here."

"Is it now?" I replied disinterestedly. "I suppose there are many rooms in this house that you haven't been in."

"No, just this one."

"Well, at least we know that there are _some_ lines you're not quite willing to cross then, don't we?"

"I am unsure of your meaning."

"It's just nice to know that while spying on me from a tree outside of my bedroom window seems ok to you, walking up a flight of stairs to see a room your mother designed for some random girl is a step too far," I snarked, striding to the wall of bookshelves and opening the bathroom door. "Well, but I guess that's not entirely true, either, since you _clearly_ thought it was alright to come up here and watch me sleep this morning."

I strode into the bathroom without a glance behind me and began brushing my teeth, assuming Edward would feel properly chastened and leave. I was wrong.

"I wanted to speak with you," he said quietly from the open doorway behind me.

"So speak," I said through a mouthful of toothpaste, continuing my ablutions.

"I do not know what to say..." he began slowly, drifting off.

"Well, that was a great conversation, Edward. Thank you so much for sharing. You have a nice morning."

"Stop it," he whispered, his voice soft but his tone surprisingly firm. He moved into the small room, perching himself on the lip of the bathtub to my left.

"Stop what?" I spat, unwilling to drop the bitch act until I knew what was happening.

"Stop speaking to me in that way," he pled, his eyes wide and ashamed. "It is beneath you. _I _am beneath you."

"Well, that's great, Edward. Glad to know we agree on something."

"Isabella," he breathed, "_please_."

"Please what, Edward? Christ, I don't know what you want from me! For every step I take in your direction, you shove me back a mile. Do you have any idea how exhausting that is? How difficult it is to try to get to know you? You have to give me something, Edward. Tell me what you want, because we can't all be mind readers!"

"I want _you_," he choked out, his voice thick with emotions I couldn't begin to name. "I want you, Bella. Bella," he laughed bitterly, repeating my name again and again. "Do you have any idea how long I've wanted to call you that? Alice gets to use it. She gets to call you all sorts of wonderful, endearing things, and I am so jealous... you have no idea how jealous..."

"It's just my name, Edward," I said, confused. "You can call me anything you want. I don't care."

"But I _want_ you to care," he explained desperately, his hands going straight for his hair. "I had all these fantasies about you _inviting_ me to call you that. I _know_ it's only Alice and your father, and I wanted to be a part of that, to be someone who got to call you something special..."

"Edward, do you have any concept at all of how many times you've called me 'baby'? Or 'love'?"

"I have never-"

"Yes you have! Sure, it's normally when you're freaked out or something, but you do it all the time."

"I do?"

"Yes."

"Oh. Do you... do you mind it? When I call you those things?" he asked curiously, studying my face.

I sighed, dropping onto the cold tile floor and extending my legs in front of me.

"I like it," I admitted against my will. "Sometimes I don't want to, but I do."

We sat there for a long time, him on the tub, me on the floor, each lost in our own screwed up thoughts, until a loud thud from the second floor brought us back to reality.

"How do we fix this, Isabella?" Edward asked quietly, looking at me as a scolded child would look upon a parent.

"I don't know," I admitted, twisting a strand of hair around my finger. "Is it worth fixing?"

Please say yes. _Please_ say yes.

"You know it is," he told the floor, shaking his head.

"So what do we do, then?"

"Carlisle said we should talk."

"Talking gets us in trouble," I said wryly, barking out a humorless laugh.

"_Everything_ gets us in trouble," he agreed, his eyes shining with mirth. He was beautiful. He was _always _beautiful.

"Well, let's start over then," I suggested, jumping up and shaking out my limbs before crossing the small bit of floor between us with a smile and an outstretched hand. "Hello there," I said. "My name is Isabella Swan, but you can call me Bella if you like. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Edward Anthony Masen Cullen," he replied, taking my proffered hand between both of his and grinning widely. "It is an honor and a pleasure, Bella."

"Likewise," I agreed, reveling in the contact between our still-joined hands. "By the way, Edward, I'm a mortal 17-year-old human girl."

"How fascinating, Bella. I'm an immortal 109-year-old vampire boy trapped in the body of a 17-year-old. I believe we will have much to learn about each other," he laughed, seeming to enjoy our little game.

"You know, I think you're right."

"Alright, kids, that's enough playtime for now!" Alice sang out from the room... _my_ room, I suppose, if I was being accurate. "Esme's cooking you breakfast, Isabella, so you'd better get downstairs before she goes through the entire Betty Crocker Cookbook!"

"I guess that's my cue to get dressed," I said wryly, not bothering to answer Alice. Reluctantly, I tugged my hand from Edward's grasp and turned towards the door, pausing and looking back at Edward. "This won't solve everything you know," I said, not unkindly.

"I know."

"But it's a start," I finished, painfully aware of the risk I was taking here... the risk to my heart, the risk to my sanity...

"It's a start," he echoed, rising slowly and following me out of the bathroom.

I gathered my outfit from the bed, turning around and almost jumping when I realized he was still in the room.

"I want to thank you, Bella, for giving me this second chance. I am well aware that I do not deserve one... that I do not deserve _you_, but..." he trailed off, looking frustrated, before continuing. "I know my behavior of late has been reprehensible, and I can only hope and pray that you will give me the opportunity to make it up to you."

"You hurt me, Edward," I admitted, hugging the armful of clothes to my chest.

"And I will mourn that fact for the rest of eternity," he said heavily, his chin dropping to his chest. "Nothing I do will ever make right the wrong that I have inflicted upon you, but I swear to you that every day I spend upon this earth will be dedicated to atoning for my sins against you."

"You needn't be so dramatic," I muttered awkwardly, shuffling my feet and inwardly slapping myself for reverting to bitchiness in my discomfort.

"It is not drama, but the truth," Edward said fervently, moving slowly towards me until his face was inches from my own. "You are my light in the darkness, Isabella. Your existence is all the proof I need that there is goodness in this world. You are my champion, my salvation. You are my everything," he breathed, reaching out a hand and tenderly stroking my cheek.

"I pushed you away because I was afraid, because I did not and do not feel worthy of you, but I know now that it was a futile endeavor, that my entire miserable existence was but a prelude to this, to you..."

Alice called up the stairs, warning us that we would be late for school if we carried on, and Edward took a step back, breathing heavily.

"I will see you downstairs, Bella. Do not worry about rushing. We will leave whenever you are ready."

He turned towards the stairs, making it down a handful of steps before I called after him.

"Edward?" I asked tentatively, smiling when his head snapped up and looked at me through the bars propping up the banister. "The way you feel... you should know that you're not alone."

"Do you truly mean that?" he breathed out, his voice barely audible.

"With everything in my heart," I confirmed, sighing as a bit of the tightness in my chest disappeared, affording me a measure of relief.

"Thank you."

"Anytime," I smiled, shuffling my feet. "Oh... and Edward?"

"Yes?"

"You'd better prepare yourself for a long day. I have a lot of questions to ask you, and I'd like it very much if you'd answer them."

"I can deny you nothing, Isabella," he said charmingly, flashing me a crooked smile that he seemed to only bring out for occasions such as these.

My balance wobbled a bit as my pulse sped up I turned into a puddle of goo in his gaze. And from the faint chuckle I heard as he descended the stairs, he knew exactly what he'd done to me.

Bastard.

**A/N: Yet another Author's Note... I had been doing so well without them before...**

**This is a friendly heads-up that I seem to have tapped my inspiration well for a while... I went on a multi-chapter writing spree over the past couple of weeks, and it feels as though that spree has come to an end. This does not in any way, shape, or form imply that this fic will be abandoned because it WON'T. It's just a preemptive strike about personal messages asking me when I'll update. I'm guessing you'll have another chapter in a week, maybe two. Not a big gap. Just don't forget about me. :)**


	20. Chapter 20

"What's your favorite color?"

"Blue."

"Number?"

"Eighteen."

"Why is that?"

"When I was a boy, it was an age I looked forward to. Now that I'm what I am, it's a symbol of everything I could never be."

"That's horrible, Edward."

"It's the truth."

"Moving on. Favorite author?"

"I don't like that question."

"Come on."

"Would _you_ be able to answer?"

"That's not the point."

"That's what I thought."

"Fine. Shall I rephrase the question?"

"If you please."

"Who, dear Edward, are some of your favorite novelists?"

"Why, Isabella, I thought you'd never ask."

"Get on with it."

"I enjoy F. Scott Fitzgerald and Steinbeck. I've always felt a sort of kinship with Dante."

"Not Bram Stoker?"

"You wound me."

"My apologies."

"Accepted."

"If you were a tree, what kind of tree would you be?"

"Whatever kind sits outside of your window."

"That's creepy, Edward."

"Really? I think it's rather romantic."

"You would."

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean by that. May I ask _you_ a question now?"

"Not today. Today is _my_ day. You can ask tomorrow."

"Tomorrow it is, then."

The day went by in a blur. As each of my classes let out, Edward was always there, standing just outside the door, patiently waiting for the next slew of questions.

I tried to keep it light and fun and jocular. I didn't ask about things we'd fought about. I didn't ask about his nature, his family, or his rather extensive past. Instead, I asked about just him, just Edward, and, if the thrilled expression on his face was anything to go by, he was enjoying talking about himself just as much as I was enjoying listening.

Before I knew it, the final bell had rung and I found myself once again in the high school parking lot, this time waiting beside a silver Volvo and studiously ignoring the curious stares of my classmates as they wandered by a touch too slowly, their voices a touch too low to be overheard. I crouched down and adjusted the zipper on my boots, flattening the hem of my skirt on my way back up. Edward and I had been waiting for the rest of his family for at least five minutes, and the longer we stood there, the more uncomfortable I became.

"What's keeping them?" I grumbled, leaning back against the car.

"Another question?" Edward teased, tugging playfully on a strand of my hair.

"Seriously, Edward, it's cold out here and Alice forced me to wear this damn skirt."

His playful expression softened for a moment, shifting to one of concern as he wordlessly shrugged off his worn leather jacket and wrapped it around my shoulders. It was cool from his lack of body heat, but it smelled like him, crisp and sweet and irresistible, and I found myself burrowing deeper into it, inhaling deeply.

"Better?" he asked.

"Much. Thank you."

We waited another ten minutes in a comfortable silence, watching the cars as they pulled out of the lot, nodding in recognition to the occasional brave soul who acknowledged us as they walked by.

"Seriously, Edward, where is-"

I heard my phone vibrate through the fabric of my Jansport, and I quickly bent down to retrieve it.

"It's probably Alice," Edward predicted sagely.

It was. Well, it was a text from Alice, anyway.

"She says they left after lunch and forgot to say anything," I announced incredulously, re-reading the message twice just to make sure I got it right. "Do vamp-... do _vegetarians_ really forget things?"

"Vegetarian" was our new euphemism for "vampire." Alice had come up with it over breakfast. It was supposed to make it easier for us to talk about things while we were in public places. Really, I think she just suggested it for the sake of the inside joke.

"No," Edward replied, running a hand through his hair. He was visibly frustrated.

"Well, I'm sure-"

"They should have said something. It's freezing out here! You could have gotten sick!"

"Edward-"

"I can't believe how thoughtlessly they've been behaving lately. If you come down with even the most minor cold..."

"Edward-"

"And Alice! You should _hear_ some of the things she's been telling me lately. I'll bet that this was her idea. This was no mistake. She did this on purpose..."

"Edward!" I finally shouted, stomping my foot like a child trying to get their parent's attention. A few stragglers in the lot turned towards us to gape.

"Yes, Bella?" he asked quizzically.

"Did you even hear me before? I called your name three times!"

"I apologize. I was... I get... I was focused."

"I could see that. Look, if we're not waiting for them anymore, why are we still here?"

"Oh. Well, um... you're right, of course. Let's get you home."

The five minute car ride that followed was tense at best. Edward was still clearly frustrated with the alleged thoughtlessness of his siblings, muttering to himself and gripping the steering wheel so hard that I feared it might snap in half. I stayed quiet throughout his private little rant, catching the odd word now and then but trying hard not to pay attention. It wasn't until I heard him circle back to the subject of my getting sick with any number of horrid diseases as a result of my fifteen minutes in the cold that I decided I needed to say something.

"I feel fine, you know," I said to nobody in particular when Edward came to a stop in front of my house.

"I'm sorry?" he asked, confused.

"I feel fine. I'm not sick."

"You can't possibly know that yet."

"That's true, but I seriously doubt that I've come down with pneumonia in the past half hour," I huffed.

"Still, they put your health at risk by making us-"

"We could have waited in the car, you know."

"What?"

"You could have turned the heat on in your car. We were standing in front of it long enough, there was absolutely no reason why we couldn't have waited in it."

"Well, but-"

"But nothing, Edward. They're your family and you love them. Now forgive them for this tiny little inconvenience and quit fixating already."

"But-"

"I'm going inside. Are you coming?" I asked, already halfway out of the car and striding towards my front door. By the time my key was in the lock, he was standing directly behind me with a contrite look on his face.

"I get focused," he explained by way of apology.

"I know," I said, reaching out and squeezing his forearm gently before turning around and stepping inside.

Silently, Edward followed me into the kitchen where I poured myself a glass of water. He watched as I checked the messages on the machine. Without a word, he reached out and caught me when my foot caught on the leg of the coffee table in the living room. Noiselessly, he followed me up the stairs to my attic, pausing only briefly at the door of my room before continuing in behind me and leaning stiffly against the door frame.

"I wish to apologize," he began rather formally.

"For what?"

"I lost my temper earlier. I should not have done so, and I wish to apologize."

"Don't be silly," I said incredulously, waving him off. "You did nothing wrong."

"I was angry."

"If one of us has to apologize every time we get angry, this is going to be a very boring relationship."

"You are being too kind. I did not-"

"Just stop, Edward. You were concerned for me. I understand and appreciate that fact. If you apologize again, I'm going to have to kick you out."

"I'd like to see you try," he replied with a quirk of his lips.

"Now _there's_ the Edward I know and love," I teased back, my cheeks flaming as I fought the implications of the last word. "Anyway, why are we still standing? Pull up a chair. Stay a while."

I gestured towards my desk chair and he acquiesced to my suggestion, dropping gracefully onto the proffered chair as I scrambled inelegantly onto the wood of my desk top.

"Why do you always sit up there?" he asked, tilting his head to the side.

"Makes me happy," I replied with a shrug. "You're not supposed to be asking questions."

"I was under the impression that the rules only held within the confines of Forks High School."

"I don't remember making any such distinction."

"Yes, well, I'm rather sure you did. You must have forgotten. Lucky for you, we vegetarians are blessed with perfect recall," he said with a smile, tapping his forehead with a long, pale finger.

"I suppose I should just take you at your word, then."

"Oh, most definitely."

We grinned at each other like idiots for a moment, and as we did the small niggling doubt that I'd gone to school with this morning, the one that told me that I was too messed up to trust anyone, that nobody would want me anyway, got a little bit quieter. It didn't go away entirely, but it was easier to ignore.

"What's wrong?" Edward asked as my smile faltered.

"Nothing," I replied, shaking my head. "You know, it just occurred to me that I left all my things at your house."

"Oh, that wasn't a mistake. Alice told us this morning that you'd be staying another night."

"Did she now? Would've been nice if she'd told me."

"Yes, well that's Alice for you, always leaving people out of the loop."

This time it was _his_ expression that darkened, and before I knew what I was doing, my fingers were smoothing his hair back from his forehead.

"Don't frown," I admonished softly, rubbing at the crease that had formed between his eyebrows. "You're too beautiful to frown."

The minute the words were out of my mouth, I wished desperately to take them back, but I couldn't. I took my hand back instead, yanking it away from his face as though I'd been burned, grimacing as I felt my face flush in embarrassment.

"_You're_ the beautiful one, my Bella," Edward said, his amber eyes aflame. "I just look like the rest of them."

"The rest of who? Vegetarians?" I was trying to keep it light, trying to get our levity back. If the grim expression on his face was anything to go by, it wasn't working.

"You can't even say it, can you? Can't bear to pronounce the word. And you shouldn't. You shouldn't demean yourself by speaking it."

"Edward, what happened? We were having a good time, weren't we? We were just talking. What happened?"

"I shouldn't be here. Alice wanted you to pack some fresh clothes for tonight, but you can do that on your own. Your truck is still here. I'll leave you to it," he had risen from the chair and begun backing towards the door. His hands were in his hair again. It was like he hadn't heard me at all.

"Edward, _please_ tell me what happened? Talk to me. You must talk to me."

"If you'd prefer to spend the night with someone else's family... Angela Webber, maybe..."

"Edward, _STOP_," I demanded, jumping from the desk and crossing the room to stand in front of him. I reached up and wrapped my fingers around his hands, trying to pry them from his hair, but his grip was too tight. "Edward, look at me. _Look at me_."

I stepped closer and moved my hands down his torso, wrapping my arms around his waist and looking up carefully into his eyes. His expression softened for a split-second, and I squeezed him tighter in response.

"That's it, Edward. Just look at me. Concentrate on me," I coaxed and, after what seemed an age, his eyes, which had previously been darting wildly around the room, settled on my face.

"Isabella," he breathed, dropping his arms to my shoulders and drawing me into his body. "I'm so sorry."

"What did I say about apologizing?" I asked quietly, sighing as he buried his face in my hair.

"I don't know what happened," he whispered, holding me tighter still. "I don't know what's happening to me."

"We'll figure it out," I reassured him with what I hoped was a confident tone.

"We will," he agreed, pressing his lips against my forehead for one brief and heart stopping minute before drawing back entirely, making me feel bereft.

"Shall we go back to my office?" I asked after the silence had stretched out too long. He cracked a smile, a weak one but a smile still, and followed me back towards my desk, this time settling himself next to me by the window rather than taking the chair.

"I'm not afraid to say it, you know," I said quietly, not looking at him. "I've said it before."

"I know you have," he agreed.

"It wasn't me who suggested we-"

"It was Alice's little game. I know."

"I'm not afraid to say it," I repeated firmly, this time looking straight at him. "Edward, you're a vampire."

Time stood still for a century before the hard line of his mouth morphed into the barest of genuine smiles.

"I know."

"Yes, well, I just thought I'd tell you again."

Outside it began to rain, tiny droplets beating weakly against the window pane before quietly beginning their descent down the glass. I concentrated on the sound, trying to hear each individual drop as it landed, but there were too many. I was overwhelmed.

"I dreamed about you, you know," I said suddenly, apropos of nothing.

"In the meadow?" he asked.

"Leaving," I answered, looking up to find that the rain on the window was casting shadows on his face, dark trails and splatters projected onto his marble white skin. "You were packing a bag to leave."

"Carlisle stopped me," he said, his jaw tensing for a moment.

"I'm glad he did."

It began to rain harder. I considered wryly just how often my life tended to change during rainstorms.

"Why did you lie to me that day?"

"I didn't know what else to do. I couldn't tell you the truth."

"Couldn't or wouldn't?"

"Can it be both?" he asked plaintively. "You know our secret now, but it was not mine to tell."

"And the only explanation would have involved betraying your family's secret?"

"It sounds like an excuse, but at the time, it was the only thing I knew to do. I'm sorry that I lied."

"Will you tell me now?" I asked, leaning forward to prop my chin on my hands.

"You know of my... gift," he began without preface, mimicking my pose. "My gift is crucial to my family's survival. Our physical beauty makes us appealing to humans, but our true nature makes us off putting at best. This bad feeling coupled with the fact that we do not age, that we act differently than most... I must be constantly on alert to know when people are growing suspicious of us."

"People are afraid of you? Naturally?" I clarified.

"Everyone but you," he said, smiling wryly. "For some reason, you have no sense of self-preservation at all."

"Maybe it's _my_ gift," I offered with a small laugh.

"Or curse," he said darkly, his smile fading, his eyes shifting away again.

"Edward," I prompted, nudging him with my foot. He got the point.

"In any event, in all places we live, it becomes imperative that I keep an ear on things, so to speak. The day you found yourself in the school parking lot happened to be the day of a faculty meeting."

"I remember," I interjected suddenly. "There was a note on the library door. It was closed for the meeting."

"Yes, well, that's where I was. I hide in the stacks, listening in on things and making sure that my siblings and I are not in danger of making spectacles of ourselves. When I left, there you were in the parking lot, and... I saw the car, heard Crowley's thoughts... he didn't know you were there, he was concentrating on something else, and then the animal crossed his path and... You cannot die, Isabella. I will not let you," he finished fervently, his eyes fierce.

"Edward, I-"

"You are too important to die, and I had only just found you. I did what had to be done. Luckily, the consequences of that action appear to be minimal."

"Consequences?" I asked, dazedly.

"I could have been seen. Someone could have noticed me. I could have compromised my family."

"But you didn't, right? Nobody saw you? You're fine?" I asked, concerned.

"I moved so quickly that I would not have been easily discernible, anyway, and Crowley was too upset to notice that anything additional was amiss. I believe my family and I are in the clear."

"That's good," I said, my mind struggling to process the gravity of the situation I had unwittingly forced Edward into. "You could have left me there, you know?"

"That was not an option. Do not say such things."

"It's just... I don't want to put your family in any danger. If anything like that happens again, you need to think first, Edward."

"_You_ need to think about what you're saying right now, since clearly you've taken leave of your senses. You're saying I should have let you die."

"You don't know that I would've died."

"No, but you do."

Thunder rumbled in the distance, echoing the shift in mood that seemed to have overtaken us.

"Why does this always happen?" I asked ruefully, gesturing between the two of us.

"The antagonism, you mean?" he clarified, eyes searching my face.

"Exactly. One minute we're fine, and the next we're..."

"At each other's throats?" he supplied helpfully, his eyes glittering.

"Try not to look so pleased with yourself, Edward," I muttered, trying not to smile and failing miserably. "But that right there... that's my point. Just a minute ago we were making each other miserable, and now we're-"

"Happy," he finished. It was a statement, not a question.

"Happy," I echoed, glancing out the window again. "What is it with this place and rain?"

"Missing Arizona?"

"Surprisingly enough, this weather reminds me of it more than anything," I said, his puzzled expression encouraging me to explain further. "It seldom rains in the desert, but when it does, it goes all out."

"Interesting. I must admit that that particular area of the country is one of the few I've never spent any great amount of time in."

"Why is that?"

"Our presence disturbs the ecosystem too greatly. There aren't a great number of desert-dwellers we can adequately feed on, and the constant sunlight is more of a liability than anything else."

"Not a big fan of lizards, then?"

"While the blood of herbivores is far from appealing, essence of reptile may be one of the most disgusting things on the planet," he confided, his lips quirked up into one of those half-smiles I was coming to love so well.

"So a pet gecko would be the way for me to go, then? If I were ever inclined to get a pet to begin with, that is."

"Your gecko would be safe. You have my word," he said solemnly, bringing a hand to his chest in a mock pledge.

"Thank you for that."

"It is my pleasure, Isabella."

Outside, lightning tore the sky in half, the following thunder sounding so loudly and quickly that I jumped, losing my balance and falling backwards. Edward, of course, got there first, his arms wrapping around my torso and caging me in as he drew me onto his lap.

"Comfortable?" I asked shyly, dangerously aware of every inch of his body as it cocooned me.

"Eminently," he purred quietly, his voice suddenly deeper, richer, almost tangible.

"Th-that's good," I stammered, tentatively resting my cheek against his chest. "What are we doing, Edward?"

"We're sitting together, Isabella. I should have thought that was obvious," he replied silkily.

I shifted slightly in his lap, unable to stop myself from fidgeting, and he responded by turning my body sideways so that I was draped across him, his arm supporting my back and my legs dangling off the side of the desk.

I turned my head again, this time blatantly burrowing my face into the fabric of his shirt, breathing in his scent without thought or care. A cool finger glided across my forehead, descending down my face to trace my eyebrow, my cheek bone, my nose, my lips...

Of its own accord, my tongue darted out to touch the pad of his finger and my entire body shuddered at the taste of him, cool and sweet and so incredibly addictive.

"What are you doing to me, my Bella?" Edward whispered. "What have you done to me?"

His fingers were doing tantalizing things, stroking first my top lip, then my bottom, his palm caressing the side of my face. My body felt like it was ready to burst into flame, every nerve set alight.

The arm supporting my back shifted a bit, and I felt myself slide just a bit lower, looking up slowly to find his molten eyes directly in front of me, seemingly boring into my soul.

"Edward," I whimpered, surprised that I was even able to form his name with the feelings that were wracking my body.

There was a tremendous crack outside, a deafening clap of thunder coupled with the unmistakable sound of breaking wood...

But then Edward's lips were pressed against mine, and I knew nothing else.


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

From the moment Edward's lips touched mine, I knew nothing would ever be the same again.

Electricity coursed through me, deep and hot, sizzling every muscle, zinging every nerve. My body felt like a live wire, and the current seemed to spark hotter in the places that we touched. I had never felt this way before, never experienced anything even remotely like it and, while the foreign sensations should have probably put me on edge, they only seemed to be spurring me on, encouraging me to get closer, to touch more.

My hands roamed his body freely, starting with his scalp and working their way down the nape of his neck, across his shoulder blades, tracing his spine, caressing the planes of his abdomen. His hands seemed to have a similar idea as they ran up and down my back, pausing to squeeze my hips and knead the backs of my thighs before making their way back up again. Every moan of mine was met with one of his own, every shudder seeming to travel through him after leaving me. It was incredible. I couldn't get enough.

It was my tongue that stopped him in the end. When Mark and I had been together, he used to like to stick his tongue in my mouth. Listening to other girls talk about French kissing at school, hell, even listening to my mother prattle on about it on occasion, I knew that this was supposed to be a good sensation, pleasurable, but with Mark it had always felt like he was trying to suck my mouth out. I'd never understood _why_ he'd want to do this, why he'd always _insist_ on doing it... until now.

My lips against Edward's weren't enough. My body pressed against his wasn't enough contact. I wanted to get closer. I _needed_ to get closer.

So I swiped my tongue along his bottom lip, shuddering at the exquisite taste of him, the feeling, the rush...

And then he was gone.

In true Edward fashion.

I was too dazed to hear the glass shatter, but the spray of the rain from outside caught my attention quickly enough.

He had jumped through my window.

He hadn't paused to open it.

I couldn't decide how I felt about this development. On a physical level, I missed the feeling of his body against mine, the way his fingers had felt against my spine, the way his chest had vibrated when he moaned. On a mental level, I was... well, I was useless.

I stared blankly outside as the storm raged on, idly looking down to take in the glimmering shards of glass where they lay on the ground far beneath my room, admiring the way they glittered for a moments before looking out again, watching the wind and rain tear through my tree.

My lips were tingling, my muscles twitching with residual energy. I felt like I could run a marathon, scale a building, but I seemed to have been struck dumb by his absence.

I couldn't think. I could only feel.

My phone beeped from my backpack behind me.

I brought my fingertips to my lips, remembering where _his_ had been just moments before.

My phone beeped again.

I wrapped my arms around my stomach, resting my hands on my hips, squeezing them the way _he_ had.

Another beep. Someone was texting me.

I reached up and wrapped my hair around my fingers, tugging it lightly, playing with it like...

My phone beeped again, just as the house phone began ringing downstairs.

Someone was trying to get in touch with me.

Oh.

_Oh._

Shit... how long had I been spacing out?

Rain kept blowing through my window and a particularly violent flash of lightening had me jumping off my desk in shock, stumbling back on weak legs until I managed to catch myself on my bed. Startled, I surveyed the damage to the window, the growing puddle of rain collecting on my desk top, and, finally, the rather soaked state of my face, hair, and shirt.

Wow. One kiss and I'd gone catatonic.

My cell beeped.

Right... the phone.

Distractedly, I fumbled through the front pocket of my bag and snatched the offending item, fiddling with it as I hurried down the stairs to answer the still-ringing phone in the kitchen.

Five text messages.

_From: Alice Cullen_

_Answer the door._

_From: Emmett Cullen_

_Answer the door._

_From: Alice Cullen_

_Can't you hear us? Answer the door._

_From: Emmett Cullen_

_Dude, we've been knocking forever. Get your human ass down here._

_From: Alice Cullen_

_You've ruined my shoes! Do you have any idea what excess water does to suede?_

Surprised, I glanced out the window once I reached the living room. An enormous Jeep was out front.

And someone was knocking on the door. Forcefully.

Oops.

Blushing, I scurried towards it, unlocking and opening it quickly before rushing towards the kitchen to catch the phone.

"Isabella Swan, do you have _any_ idea how long we've been out there?" Alice called shrilly from the front hall.

"I just have to get the-"

"It was _me_ on the phone, Bella. How long does it take a person to answer a door?"

Shaking my head in embarrassment, I walked slowly back into the living room, looking up to find a soaked Alice and Emmett and...

"Why do you have a window?" I asked incredulously.

"To replace the one our dumb-ass brother broke," Emmett chuckled, shaking the water out of his hair. "Lead the way, little girl. Esme'd freak if she found out we'd let your desk get damaged."

With what I'm sure was a stupid look on my face, I glanced from Emmett to Alice, tilting my head to the side when she tapped her temple knowingly.

"How much did you see?" I whispered urgently to her, fighting the urge to run away and hide somewhere.

"I saw... enough," she replied cryptically, motioning for me to precede them up the stairs.

"No... You... you guys go on up," I said shakily. "I'll be there in a minute."

Emmett winked at me before hoisting up the new window and darting up the stairs and out of sight with Alice in tow.

I stood there dumbly for what felt like a really long time but was probably only a minute or so. Another loud clap of thunder brought me out of my embarrassed trance, and I stepped into the small downstairs bathroom for a moment to compose myself, splashing cold water on my face and trying not to grimace at the rather unkempt reflection I was presented with in the mirror.

By the time I made it back into my room, Emmett was drilling the last screws into my replaced window and Alice was applying some sort of wax to the top of my desk, which had been moved a few feet out from the wall.

"I'm trying to make sure it doesn't stain or warp," Alice explained as I walked into the room, not even bothering to look up as her hands flew over the surface, making the wood shine.

"Thanks," I said, surprised. "I didn't even think of that."

"Esme loves that desk," Emmett offered from behind his power tools. "She'd shit if anything happened to it."

"My desk?" I asked, confused. "Why would Esme know about..."

My brain caught up with my mouth and I suddenly flashed to a memory, a memory of my first days here, of a large Jeep pulling away from the house just as I pulled up, of Charlie telling me that Esme Cullen had finally found a suitable desk for me at an estate sale...

"I forgot," I breathed, more to myself than anyone else.

"Not like there hasn't been a lot going on," Emmett chuckled, seemingly oblivious to my distracted demeanor. It made me like him more.

"Too true," Alice agreed, making one more pass over the dark wood surface before hoisting it single-handedly and re-settling it beneath my new window.

"Jesus, Alice," I sputtered, struggling to make sense of the puzzling image she had just presented me with. "I know vamp-... vegetarians are strong, but..."

"It's creepy, right? She's like Mighty Mouse or some shit," Emmett laughed, dropping himself heavily onto my bed and bouncing a couple of times as though testing it out. "Damn, human girl, you've got one springy mattress."

He raised his eye brow suggestively at me and bounced some more as though proving his point.

"Enough," Alice tutted, seating herself daintily next to her brother. "Leave Bella and her springy bed alone."

"Fine," Emmett mock-pouted, making his lower lip quiver, "but only if Bella-boo explains exactly _how_ her window came to be broken in the first place. More specifically, _how_ did my dear, sweet, boring, brooding brother manage to end up on the other side of it?"

I shook my head, turning around and pretending to examine the new window in an effort to calm the blush that seemed intent on taking over my body, making even my hands feel suddenly hot and awkward.

"It was an accident," I said by way of explanation, my back still turned against my guests and my fingers pulling my locket from beneath my still-damp shirt, clutching at it like a lifeline.

Why _had_ he left like that? Had he hated kissing me so much that he'd had to escape me by any means necessary? Had it been that bad?

At the time, I had been too distracted by the ghosts of his touch, the residual feelings still lingering on my skin. Now... now, with a new window, a polished desk, and two vampires sitting on my bed, the situation was a lot more confusing.

"Bella, since we're here, why don't you have Emmett set up your new computer?" Alice asked out of the blue.

I spun around to look at her, wondering what she could possibly mean until I saw her approach the corner of a white bag that was just barely peeking out from under my bed...

"Alice, I don't-"

"You got a new computer, human girl? Let's set that shit up!"

"Emmett, it's not-"

"Why would you keep a computer under your bed, human girl?" Emmett asked teasingly as he watched Alice pull bag after bag from beneath my bed frame, peeling the white plastic away to reveal what looked to be the entire contents of an Apple store. "Don't you know computers live on desks?"

"Emmett, Alice-"

"It's true," he persisted, smiling that boyish smile of his. "Why would you force a perfectly good computer under your bed when you could keep it in its natural habitat."

"Emmett-"

"Emmett, why don't you put the iMac on her desk, and I'll help her set-up her laptop," Alice interrupted, studiously avoiding my glare.

"Sure thing, sis. Human girl, you want this on the right side or the left?" Emmett asked, already across the room and unpacking the box before I could stop him.

"Right," Alice answered for me. "Make sure it doesn't block the window."

"Alice, I didn't want-"

"Let's get you situated on your laptop, Bella."

"I don't need a laptop and a desktop," I all but snarled, my hands curling into impotent fists at my sides. "That's ridiculous."

"Don't be silly," Alice replied, waving me off. "You need the desktop for your files. These skinny little laptops barely hold anything."

"Skinny little..." I trailed off, finally getting a good look at the piece of technology she was currently cradling in her lap.

"An _Air_? You got me a MacBook _Air_? What the-"

"I know it can't do as much as the Pro, but Edward was concerned about you having to carry it around school. Still, if you'd rather a Pro, we can get you that, too. I mean, if it was up to me, I probably would've gotten you one of those cute little net books..."

Shit... Edward. Edward had bought me this stuff. I'd forgotten about that... about why I'd shoved it all under my bed to begin with...

Edward.

The boy who had kissed me only to jump out my window.

Alice was still talking, babbling on about something computer related no doubt, but I tuned her out, looking fuzzily about the room as I took in all of the changes of my new life.

A month or so ago, I had been miserable in Phoenix, curled up in my hard bed with my head on Mark's shoulder, trying not to fall asleep so I wouldn't be faced with the evidence of my mother and step-father's lack of feeling for me.

Closing my eyes, I tried to put myself back there, tried to remember how it felt to be that Bella, but the bedroom that had been my haven there felt too sparse and cramped now, and the mere idea of physical closeness with anyone but Edward made my stomach turn.

"Bella?" Alice called from my bed, her tone heave with concern. "Is everything ok?"

I nodded, my eyes still closed, and the action seemed to appease her because the room was silent once more. And I was lost in thought again.

Knowing Edward had been a life altering experience, but touching him, kissing him, it was as if the entire universe had been flipped on its head. Up was down, black was white, and I was no longer certain of anything except the feeling of his lips, his hands, his breath...

Edward.

I felt my heart rate pick up as I thought of him, felt my chest rise and fall with now-heavy breaths.

Edward had left. He had run away. But where did he go?

Edward.

I thought about him, about the way he looked when he was thinking, or sad, or laughing...

Edward.

I thought about the way his hair had felt as it slipped through my fingers, the way his lips had tasted on my tongue...

Edward Cullen.

An image flashed behind my closed eyelids, sudden and startling in its intensity.

A beautiful boy soaked from the rain, his copper hair matted to his head, the expression on his face miserable as he sat on the two steps that led to the back door of my house.

Edward was outside, and he was in pain.

Without a thought I raced from my room, leaping down the stairs two at a time and somehow miraculously landing on the first floor in one piece. As if on instinct, my body sprinted into the laundry room, flicking the lock and gripping the knob of the seldom-used back door and yanking with my entire body until, suddenly, it gave way and he was there, standing in front of me, rain dripping down his face and sadness marring his beautiful features.

"Edward?" I breathed, my hand hovering between us, caught in a net of indecision about whether he would want me touching him or not.

"Bella, I'm so sorr-"

My lips were on his before he could finish the words.

He was here and he was sorry and, now, he was kissing me back.

I would worry about the rest later.

**Big-Fat A/N: **

**Hello, all, and happy new year!**

**I hope everyone's holidays were fantastic, and I apologize for the protracted update delay, but I've been a busy bee lately.**

**First off, I'd like to thank IssaBissa and Hannah for being awesome betas, and welcome Hannah back into my fanfic life! It's been a while since I've worked with her, but her notes always make me smile and, of course, they were both super helpful with this chapter in particular, which went through two very divergent drafts.**

**Now, I'm going to try something different in an effort to keep me posting more often. Every chapter will have a question at the bottom, something I'm hoping will inspire me for future updates, and I'd love it if, in addition to (or instead of) reviews, you'd participate by answering with your own life experience. I (obviously) write this story from my own history and encounters, and I think it would be fun if I got to see where you're coming from as well.**

**So... the question is...: Have you ever been in love? What did it feel like?**

**Thanks for playing, and see ya next time!**


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